
Class. 
Book.. 



__ 



7 



Copyright^ . 



COPYRIGHT DEPOSIT. 



A Little Journey to 
South Africa 

And Up the East Coast 



By J. R. WHITE and 
ADELAIDE SMITH 



A. FLANAGAN COMPANY 

CHICAGO 



[LIBRARY of CONGRESS! 
Two Copies Received 

NOV 2! wm 

Copyrient Entry 

rvun/.zi,tW 

CLASS O^, XXc, No. 
COPT B. 



Copyright 1908 



A. FLANAGAN COMPANY 






OUTWARD BOUND 

About the time that Rip Van Winkle began his 
long nap in Sleepy Hollow, one of his countrymen 
was busy making a legend for South Africa. It was 
then the Flying Dutchman started out on the longest 
voyage in history. This was the period of Dutch en- 
terprise and venture. The sea was dotted with the 
vessels of the merchants of Amsterdam. Not only 
were they building a city at the mouth of the Hud- 
son, but they were the most prosperous colonists of 
India and its islands. At the Cape of Good Hope the 
Dutch East India Company ruled supreme. 

It took brave hearts to venture on the seas in those 
clumsy Dutch ships and the sailors told fearful stories 
of the "Cape of Storms," but Captain van der 
Decken laughed at their fears, and vowed he would 
double the Cape in spite of wave and wind. His ves- 
sel never came to port ; for one whole day he tried to 
bring his ship to anchor in Table Bay, then at night- 
fall he swore in his wrath that he would have his will 
if it took him until the day of judgment. The sea 
he defied is mocking him still, and if you have the 
right kind of eyes you may see in the midst of storm 
and darkness the light of a vessel far out at sea and 
a shadowy form before the mast. There are those 
who believe that the Flying Dutchman has been for- 



D SOUTH AFRICA AND THE EAST COAST 

given and has found his rest, but many of the old 
Africanders have seen this phantom ship and are will- 
ing to point it out to you. When a country is as new 
as South Africa and has not many legends it must 
keep alive the few it has. 

South Africa belongs to the most modern period of 
modern history, just as North Africa belongs to the 
most ancient period of ancient history. Historically 
the Cape is as old as America, but economically it is 
the youngest of countries. 

Before Columbus sailed west to find the East, Por- 
tuguese ships were creeping along the coast of Afri- 
ca to find the Indies by a southern route. Under the 
influence of Prince Henry, the Navigator, the court 
of Portugal had become the center of maritime inter- 
est and knowledge. The fleets of the Prince brought 
back tidings of new lands and lovely islands. In 
1420 Madeira was discovered and a little later the 
Canaries and the Azores. We wondered as our boat 
drew near Madeira if those early mariners hailed it 
with the same transport of joy as our storm tossed 
crew; it seemed a vision of eternal spring after the 
long night the Londoners call winter. 

For a voyage of fine contrasts one should leave 
England in December. The memory of foggy cities 
and the misty Thames is added to the depressing in- 
fluence of the restless Bay of Biscay. After three 
days on a rolling sea we come to harbor on the quiet- 
est of bays under the most serene of blue skies — 



OUTWARD BOUND 7 

there in the distance are the green hills of Madeira 
and below the red-tiled roofs of Funchal. 

As soon as our vessel is sighted the birds of prey 
begin to swoop down upon us ; first come the divers in 
their gay little boats. All the English they know or 
need is "silver;" for a small coin the brown, scantily- 
clad Portuguese boys dive straight from the edge of 
their boats and come up in a moment dripping and tri- 




umphant with the rescued money. For a shilling the 
more experienced swimmers give a fine show of their 
skill, diving under our great steamer and coming up 
on the other side. Then come the basket-makers with 
steamer chairs, tables and baskets of wicker and 
straw. The merchants follow them on board with 
Madeira embroideries and drawn thread work. 

It is hard to leave this tempting display, but the 
boatman engaged to take us ashore is clamoring for 



O SOUTH AFRICA AND THE EAST COAST 

our company. The car that climbs the scenic rail- 
way awaits us — there is a splendid view from the hill- 
top; but we are anxious to make the descent, for 
here is a real toboggan slide and an exciting ride on a 




SCENIC RAILWAY 



sled over the smooth stones brings us back into the 
valley. Then we are ready to see the shops and the 
gardens — we can not help seeing the people. Beg- 
gars swarm around us, guides offer their services, 
children besiege us with flowers. In spite of them we 
enjoy our walk through the narrow, neatly paved 
streets, the glimpses into the tenements of the happy 
poor, the view of lovely courtyards over the high 
walls that surround the gardens of the rich, and the 
bargaining in the fine fruit and flower market. 

We reward the patient charioteer who follows us 
from the street, by engaging his services. Our char- 
iot is a gorgeous barge on runners ; a man pulls the 
two oxen in front, a small boy prods them from be- 



OUTWARD BOUND 



9 



hind, and when after much urging the speed increases 
to a run we join in the owner's laugh of joy and 
pride. Horses are almos% unknown on the island, 
and they would be useless on the winding, slippery 
streets. 

On one of the hillsides is the English cemetery, 
kept like a beautiful garden, and near it the Portu- 
guese burying ground with the strange little photo- 
graphs of the dead set in the stones. 

At dusk in the public gardens the band plays for 
the diversion of pale English tourists in search of 
health, and for dusky 
maidens in search of 
pleasure. A proces- 
sion of young priests 
reminds us that we 
are in a Catholic land. 
A bower of naming 
Bouganvillea and Or- 
ange Creeper offers a 
resting place by the 

sparkling fountain. Madeira wines and fruits are 
offered us — then the boat's whistle brings us back to 
reality, and we leave with regret "the garden spot of 
the world." 

As this is to be one of the longest ocean voyages we 
have yet taken — sixteen days from England if we 
are on the mail steamer — we have an opportunity to 
become well acquainted with some of our fellow- 




RAPID TRANSIT IN MADEIRA 



10 



SOUTH AFRICA AND THE EAST COAST 



passengers who are on their way home to Africa, and 
to learn from them many interesting things of the 
people and the places we are to visit. We are particu- 
larly interested in hearing of the many different peo- 
ples we shall meet. First in interest, of course, are 



Hi , i : i i g 






FORTE DE PICO — MADEIRA 



the natives — the negroes. There are many tribes of 
these natives, who formerly occupied the entire coun- 
try, being gradually driven further into the interior 
by the march of civilization, as our American Indians 
were driven westward and finally almost extermi- 
nated. These several tribes speak different lan- 
guages and have more or less common customs, which 
we will study later at close range. The general name 
given to the native is Kafir (meaning an infidel) , and 
in this sense we will use it in our book. Of the sev- 



' OUTWARD BOUND 11 

eral ways of spelling the word, Kafir, Kaffir, Caffre, 
Cafir, Kaffer, Cafnr, the first is that generally 
adopted. 

Among the first European settlements in South 
Africa were those of the Dutch. In the year 1835 
a large number of these Dutch colonists — called 
Boers (meaning farmers) — decided to seek a home 
farther north, where they might live undisturbed by 
outside influence. This migration is the "Trek," fa- 
mous in their history. Vanquishing the native tribes 
who disputed their progress, they settled in the Trans- 
vaal ("across the Vaal River"), and established a re- 
public, with a President elected by the people. With 
the discovery of diamonds in the seventies came an in- 
flux of other nationalities, principally the English. 
In the adapting of the laws and customs of this 
purely agrarian people to the new conditions, con- 
tinual dissensions arose, culminating finally in the 
"Three Years' War," which was ended in 1902 by the 
surrender of the Boers to the English, and the chang- 
ing of the "Orange Free State" into the "Orange 
River Colony," now governed by England in the same 
way as is Canada. 

We are also much interested in learning something 
of the life and work of Cecil Rhodes, a young Eng- 
lishman who went to Africa in 1871 to benefit his 
health, and whose influence we shall continually see 
in our travels. He was a quiet, meditative youth, but 
with a remarkable genius for organization, and it be- 



12 SOUTH AFRICA AND THE EAST COAST 

came the dream and object of his life to bring all the 
colonies of Africa, from the Cape north to the Zam- 
besi River, under the British flag. At about this time 
came the discovery of diamonds, and a little later that 
of gold. He grasped the opportunities which he 
saw, and having been successful in diamond mining 
in a small way, soon organized the diamond industry 
into one company, the DeBeers Consolidated. Later 
the gold mining industry was similarly consolidated. 
He lived a singularly lonely life; the enormous 
wealth which he accumulated was not used for the 
pleasures that money can buy, but for the further- 
ance of his one plan of developing and improving the 
country. One large territory which he opened up to 
civilization was named Rhodesia in his honor. When 
he died a few years ago he was mourned as the one 
man who had done the most toward opening to the 
world this wonderfully rich country. 

Sometimes the African steamers coal at an island 
of the Canary group; a day on the island of Tene- 
rifFe or in the City of Las Palmas is not unlike one 
at Madeira, out the language spoken is that of Spain, 
for the Portuguese transferred this group to the 
Spanish not long after its discovery. 

The population of Funchal is about 20,000, and 
that of the whole province is seven times this num- 
ber. Las Palmas and Santa Cruz have about the 
same population as Funchal, but the Canary group 
has some 300,000 inhabitants. The industries are 



OUTWARD BOUND 



13 



similar — the production of wines and tropical fruits, 
of sugar and cochineal. 

Occasionally the steamer touches at the bare vol- 
canic islands of Ascension or St. Helena; a small 
English garrison guards Ascension's unfriendly rock, 
and St. Helena reminds us of Napoleon's last days; 




LAS PAI.MAS 



it was the home of many of the Boer leaders who were 
exiled during the war. 

The sixteenth day from England, on the mail 
steamer, we sight the outlines of Table Mountain. 
Often a soft white cloud spreads over its top and 
comes creeping down the sides — this is the "Table 
Cloth," full of beauty and full of wrath — for out of 
that fleecy mist creeps the "Southeaster." This 
fierce wind makes our landing difficult and hides our 
first view of Cape Town in a whirl of dust. Usually 
Africa gives the traveler a gentle greeting of clear 



14 SOUTH AFRICA AND THE EAST COAST 

skies and so we learn to forgive in time an occasional 
outbreak of the blustering "Southeaster." It is 




CAPE TOWN AND TABLE MOUNTAIN FROM TABLE BAY 

really a friend and is given the name of the "Cape 
Doctor," foi» it sweeps every germ of disease in its 
path into the sea, 



CAPE TOWN AND ENVIRONS 

South Africa seems stranger to the European 
than to the American traveler, for there is nothing of 
the old world atmosphere about it. Indeed, we are 
inclined to believe that during our five weeks of sail- 
ing away from New York we have almost circumnavi- 
gated the globe, and we are now stepping ashore for 
a few sunny days in San Francisco. 




CAPE MALAY: 



As we walk toward the heart of the city there seems 
little that is strange or foreign in our surroundings. 
The same cosmopolitan company passes us by — here 



16 SOUTH AFRICA AND THE EAST COAST 

India supplies the element of the picturesque. We 
stop to admire a veiled woman, gay in spangles and 
shining satin. The husband in his plain fez is less in- 
teresting than a Mohammedan priest who sails, by us 
in floating robe and gay turban. 

Everywhere, a part of the busy life of the streets 
and docks, are the Cape Colored — a very different 




TEA FACTORY GIRLS 



type from the Kafir and warlike Zulu whom we meet 
later. Mixture of races and contact with civilization 
have given him the appearance of his American 
brother, 



CAPE TOWN AND ENVIRONS 



17 



Now we come to the city's principal thoroughfare. 
At the foot of the street a statue of Jan van Riebeek 
keeps guard — a reminder of the long rule of the 
Dutch East In- 
dia Company. 
The need of a re- 
freshment sta- 
tion on the route 
to India prompt- 
ed them in 1652 
to send Riebeek 
and his little 
squadron to the 
Cape. By right 
of discovery the 
land belonged to 
the Portuguese. 
Bartholomew 
Diaz had first 
seen its shores in 
1486, and a little 
later Vasco da 
Gama had touch- 
ed here on his 
way to India. Af- 
ter this, Dutch and Portuguese navigators landed 
occasionally at Table Bay, but disastrous encounters 
with the natives made them wary. It was nearly 
one hundred and seventy years after the discovery 




STATUE OF VAN RIEBEEK 



18 



SOUTH AFRICA AND THE EAST COAST 



of the Cape of Good Hope that Riebeek began, in 
his rude fortification against lions and Bush Rangers, 
the city of Cape Town. 

Wars at home persuaded the Dutch a few years 
later to strengthen the defenses of their colonies, and 
the historic Castle was built. The courtyard is large 
enough to contain a small village, and the high walls 

and inner bar- 
racks garrison 
today part of 
the British 
army. 

In the fine 
new Post Of- 
fice we exam- 
ine with inter- 
est another bit 
of the early 
history of the 
Colony. It is a 
great flat 
stone that for 
years served as 
the Cape Post Office. Under this the outbound vessel 
placed its letters to be unearthed by the next ship 
returning home. 

Outside the Post Office it appears that Africa is 
giving us a floral fete of welcome. It is the wild 
flower sale. At early morn the colored women go on 




CAPE CART 



CAPE TOWN AND ENVIRONS 19 

the mountain sides or far into the kloofs, and come 
back, their baskets laden with sprays of heath, with 
great proteas and all the wonderful flowers of the 
veld. 

We are in the midst of the life and stir of a busy 
city. We wonder at its activity when we remember 
that its population is only about 100,000. 

In fact, the total number of whites in the various 
English colonies south of the Zambesi does not ex- 
ceed 1,250,000, while the colored races number over 
5,000,000, a proportion of nearly five natives to every 
white person. The white population of all South 
Africa is therefore about that of the city of Phila- 
delphia. 

The town clock strikes eleven — the time for our 
morning tea. It is a pleasant feature of colonial life 
that even the men take time for this morning rest, and 
for an afternoon cup at four. It is a relaxation from 
the day's work, and the scene in the cafes at these 
hours is a pleasant contrast to the hurry of our Amer- 
ican life. 

We pass out of the main business street into The 
Avenue — a wide shady footpath leading into the 
Gardens, the principal residence portion of the city. 
On the left of The Avenue are the government build- 
ings. The House of Parliament is in the midst of a 
well-kept garden — its white pillars stand out in fine 
relief against the splendid background of the hills. 

A session is in progress and we secure permission 



20 



SOUTH AFRICA AND THE EAST COAST 




PARLIAMENT HOUSE AND TABLE MOUNTAIN, CAPE TOWN 



to enter the visitors' gallery. We are anxious to see 
the premier, Dr. Jameson. Surely the man in the 
gold lace and gray coat must be he. No, this 
man's sole duty is to carry about the gilded mace to 
indicate the stage of a discussion. Then he must be 
one of the grave men in white wigs with long black 
gowns. No, they are the advocates. The man we 
are seeking is the one who is moving about talking 
to the different members informally. Men come and 
go while the discussion is on and we begin to see 
that here there is the same freedom of life and free- 
dom of speech as in our own country. Later when 
we have an opportunity to meet the King's sister, 



CAPE TOWN AND ENVIRONS 21 

the Princess Christian, and his brother, the Duke of 
Connaught, the cordial handshake and genial greet- 
ing make us believe that the "pomp that hedges 
'round a throne" is forgotten in the Colonies, and that 
the British possessions are not far behind us in democ- 
racy. 

Cape Colony enjoys self-government — that is, she 
is ruled by officials elected by an almost universal 
suffrage. The exception is the Chief Executive — 
the Governor, who is appointed by the King of Eng- 
land. 

Leaving the House of Parliament and continu- 
ing our walk through The Avenue, we turn aside to 
spend an hour in the fine Botanical Gardens. Here 
is a varied collection of the plants of many lands — 
the huge woody tubers of the African "Elephant's 
Foot" {Testudinaria elephantipes) , with its delicate 
climbing stem; the native Stangeria, one of Afri- 
ca's few cone-bearing plants, with its single leaf 
which the gardener tells us it has had these five and 
twenty years,- — maybe next century it will produce 
another one; an interesting collection of succulent 
plants which store up food in stem, leaf or roots 
against the long droughts with which plants must strug- 
gle in this country. Roses rear their heads toward the 
Euphorbias with their angular candelabrum branches, 
leafless and thorny, trees from northern climes beckon 
us to rest in their shade. At the entrance to the park 
is a statue of Sir George Grey, one of the best of 



22 



SOUTH AFRICA AND THE EAST COAST 



the early English governors of the Cape. Beyond 
the statue is the great library of Cape Town which 
was established by this patron of learning. At the 
other end of the park stands the fine museum and 
art gallery. 

Only an out-of-door people can really enjoy South 
Africa — for those who are up with the sun there are 




CACTI IN PUBLIC GARDENS 



many interesting sights. There is the early morning 
market when the great square is crowded with Boers 
and English farmers, and bargainers looking for 
fresh fruit and other country produce. If you 



CAPE TOWN AND ENVIRONS 



23 



choose to scale the "Lion's Head" or Table Moun- 
tain you will meet other mountain climbers who have 
been before you to see the sun rise over the harbor 
before their day of business begins. An out-of-door 
people take time to live. 

The fine driveway named for Queen Victoria and 
the circuit of the city made by the Camps Bay tram 




SATURDAY MARKET ON THE PARADE 



line afford as magnificent a panorama as it is possible 
to find. 

Cape Town is extended by beautiful residence sub- 
urbs — Kenilworth, Rosebank, Claremont, and others. 
We have time for onlv one, so we leave our train at 



24 SOUTH AFEICA AND THE EAST COAST 

Rondebosch for a day at Groote Schuur. This 
"Great Barn" was on the old farm of Jan van Rie- 
beek, and Cecil Rhodes transformed it into his coun- 
try estate — or rather a great playground for the 
people. 




DUTCH FARMHOUSE 



A long avenue with a vista of cloud-capped moun- 
tains in the distance brings us to the house, — which 
many tourists have declared the most beautiful and 
harmonious of dwellings. It is built after the old 
Dutch style with a wide back "stoep" where every 
carved teak chair and heavjr Dutch chest has its his- 
tory. There is a dignity and refinement in the in- 



CAPE TOWN AND ENVIRONS 



25 



terior furnishings that reflects the character of the 
collector. Everywhere are the gifts of royalty, from 
the fine tapestry given by Queen Victoria to the sil- 
ver elephant snuff box of the black king Lobengula. 
We walk up the terraced garden through a sea of 
blue Hydrangeas. Beyond are the animal enclos- 




BACK STOEP — RHODES HOME 



ures. All the wild creatures of Africa have found 
a home here, — the agile spring-bok, the graceful 
eland, the queer misshapen haartebeest with its heart- 
shaped markings on cheek and shoulder. On the 
lawn the blue heron and peacock walk in dignity — 
the awkward ostrich may not come so near, for he is 



26 



SOUTH AFRICA AND THE EAST COAST 




OLD DUTCH FARMHOUSE 



freedom from the too rigorous decrees of the Dutch, 
who wished to stamp out their language. Many of 
the best families of the country boast a French line- 
age, and the hundreds of Malans and de Villiers are 
the Smiths and the Joneses of South Africa. The 
Dutch so effe'ctually effaced the French language 
that we find traces of their history only in their names 
and in an occasional touch of vivacity among the 
phlegmatic Dutch. 

On the trains now, we hear a language altogether 
unfamiliar. If you know the language of Holland you 
may be able to understand Cape Dutch. During the 
early years of isolation African Dutch became cor- 



CAPE TOWN AND ENVIRONS 



27 



When we begin our northern journey from Cape 
Town we linger at the Dutch village of Stellenbosch, 
where the same old governor located his country home 
and laid out the miles of oak bordered avenues which 
stand as lasting monuments to his foresight. 

The fruit seasons hurrying along overtake each 




GROOTE CONSTANTIA 



other, and in the summer month of January the small 
colored boys at the station besiege us with strawber- 
ries, peaches and grapes. 

We leave the main line for a glimpse of the valley 
of French Hoek. Here the band of Huguenots who 
fled from France in the time of Louis XIV sought 



28 SOUTH AFRICA AND THE EAST COAST 

liable to be rude and quarrelsome. The monkeys 
chatter at us as we climb the hill to the lion's den. 
From the hilltop we see where the seas divide — on 
one side are the waters of the Atlantic, and away to 
the east stretches the Indian Ocean. 

We wait until the great lion and lioness come 
grumbling out of their caves, and then descend 
through the pasture, where the zebras submit to our 
caresses without taking the least interest in us. 

In the garden below we encounter another lion, 
strangely like the frontispiece in some book at home. 
So we have found out where Rudyard Kipling 
studies how the leopard gets his spots. After this 
we shall enjoy his stories all the more, for we shall 
remember that he is as interesting as his best tale. 
He comes to his home in this corner of Groote Schuur 
for the African summer. The house is one of the 
many gifts of Cecil Rhodes. The whole estate is 
always open to the public. Another of his great 
benefactions is the Rhodes scholarships, whereby 
some boy from every state in our Union, together 
with others from all nations, may profit by an Ox- 
ford training. 

The early Dutch governors knew how to select the 
garden spots of Africa. Simon van der Stell chose 
Groote Constantia for his wine farm. His old Dutch 
house still stands in this beautiful valley and around 
it are the immense vineyards of the government wine 
farms. 



CAPE TOWN AND ENVIRONS 29 

rupted until it became as different from the mother 
tongue as the Africander is from the Hollander. 
It is the language of the farms and the working peo- 
ple. An effort is being made to preserve the Dutch 
of Holland by teaching it in all the schools. 

An hour beyond Stellenbosch we stop at the village 
of Wellington. Here is the only woman's college 
on this continent, Huguenot College, the out- 
growth of a school founded by two American women 
more than thirty years ago. Let us stop here long 
enough to find out something about the African 
school girl and her work and play. She is usually an 
athlete and knows all the fine points of basket ball, 
tennis and golf and is keen about hockey and cricket. 
She knows the score of her brother's football team 
that is playing for the country cup. Base ball is an 
unknown game, although the English rounders is 
somewhat similar. 

The students here are mostly Boers, with a few 
daughters of European and English families. The 
teachers are nearly all graduates of American col- 
leges and universities. We had not expected to find 
such excellent opportunities for higher education in 
this far-away land. 

The universal recreation is picnicking, which Afri- 
canders understand far better than we — a subject im- 
portant enough for a chapter in itself. Shall we lin- 
ger a day at this girls' college and join them in a 
picnic ? 



A PICNIC 

Let us join a party going out on a botanizing expe- 
dition — it is Friday afternoon, lessons are over by two 
o'clock, and half an hour later the party is at the rail- 
way station, looking for the special carriage (car) 
which the railway company has kindly put at their 
disposal for two days. One of the teachers buys a 
party ticket, which brings the average cost of the 
journey of one hundred and thirty miles to about a 
dollar each. In South Africa all teachers and stu- 
dents are allowed to travel for half- fare on the rail- 
ways. Our destination is Houw Hoek (How Hook) , 
about sixty miles southeast. of Cape Town, which can 
not be reached before nine or ten o'clock at night. 

Our special carriage is very much like the Ameri- 
can sleeping cars that have a corridor along one side 
and compartments on the other. The ordinary rail- 
way carriages of South Africa are like those of all 
European countries, made up of compartments run- 
ning crosswise, the entrance being from doors on 
either side. Within each compartment are two long 
seats accommodating four or five passengers each, 
who sit facing each other. In a way, traveling thus 
is very interesting to a foreigner who likes to study 
the faces of the people through whose country he is 
passing. Again, such close quarters tend to make 



A PICNIC 



31 



the company sociable, and one is often invited to 
share lunches with fellow passengers. The luxury 
of traveling as known in America is an experience 
for the Africander yet 
to enjoy when he visits 
our country. 

As evening comes 
on we all sit looking 
out of the windows, 
or stand on the plat- 
forms, for we are going 
through Sir Lowry's 
Pass in the Hottentot 
Holland Mountains. 
The railway winds 
back and forth up the 
side of one mountain 
for an hour or more 
and finally goes through the pass, then down on the 
other side, just as we went up. The scenery is very 
beautiful, especially at sunset, when the mountains 
are all aglow with the reflected colors of the ever- 
changing sunset sky. The mountains, like all South 
African mountains, are bold, rugged, and rocky, 
almost devoid of vegetation. 

One remarkable feature of this land is the scarchy 
of water; there are practically no lakes and very few 
rivers. In the dry season the smaller streams are 
absolutely dry, while the larger ones shrink to mere 




PROTEA MACROPHYLLUM 
White tipped with black, 5 or 6 in. long 



32 



SOUTH AFRICA AND THE EAST COAST 



brooks. As a consequence, there are no natural for- 
ests, and the traveler finds the country most monoto- 
nous. But the children born here love their country 
just as American children love theirs. 

Soon it grows dark, — then the stars come forth. 
What brilliant points of light they seem in these 
clear skies ! Surely the African moon, by whose light 
we can read, is brighter and larger than ours! It 

bathes the veld with 
its white light until 
it seems an endless 
field of snow. The 
students look up into 
the heavens to find 
the constellations. Of 
course you know that 
in the southern hemi- 
sphere certain stars 
are visible which you 
can never see without 
crossing the equator. 
The most beautiful 
southern constellation is the Southern Cross, one star 
of which points to the south pole star. Orion, with 
the three bright stars in his belt, would not be recog- 
nized in South Africa, for here he is seen upside down. 
By bedtime the train arrives at Houw Hoek and 
our carriage is shunted (switched) to a side track, 
where we are to pass the night. In this country there 




PROTEA CYNAROIDES 
Velvety pink, 7 in. Diameter 



A PICNIC 



33 



are no regular sleeping cars such as you are accus- 
tomed to see. The passengers pull down the berths, 
and the process of going to bed consists of climbing 
into the berths, rolling oneself up in a traveling-rug 
with a small pillow under the head, and this the boys 
and girls of South Africa call solid comfort. 

Early in the morning the picnic party is up; the 
boys have been busy gathering sticks for a fire, and by 
the time the others are up breakfast is all ready and 
soon a merry party is seated around the fire. 

A South African picnic means a coffee-pot and a 
fire. No one can make 
better coffee than an 
African boy; the fine 
flavor he claims is due 
to the stirring given it 
at the last minute 
with a glowing stick. 
The sandwiches are 
toasted on long forked 
branches. All must 
be served before the 
feast can begin. It is 
pleasant to remember 
how willing the young 
Africanders are to 
wait on others, and also their natural courtesy. 

Later the cups are washed and put back in the car- 
riage, and all start off in various directions to gather 




DISA UNIFLORA 

'Pride of Table Mountain, "fire red, 3 in. 

tip to tip 



34 



SOUTH AFRICA AND THE EAST COAST 



flowers, many of which they will use in their lessons. 
Such wonderful and beautiful flowers they are, 
though very unlike the wild flowers of America — we 

wish we might show 
you a picture of each 
strange flower and 
plant, but since there 
are hundreds of va- 
rieties this is impos- 
sible. The children 
of this country are 
taught botany from 
the lowest grades, as 
American children 
are taught physiolo- 
gy, so they soon learn 
to know all the native 
plants, 

Just a word in passing, about a few of the botanical 
wonders of South Africa. The Silver Trees shimmer 
in the brilliant sunshine. These unique trees, one of 
the few varieties of trees found in Cape Colony, are 
native to one spot, namely, Table Mountain, growing 
majestically upright to a height of forty or fifty feet. 
The fruit is in the form of large cones, and it belongs 
to a family of ancient lineage, the proteacese, abund- 
antly represented in the western part of Cape Colony 
by beautiful flowering shrubs. The elliptical leaves 
of the silver tree are beautifully coated on both sur- 




DROSERA CYSTIFLORA 
Brilliant colors, 2 in. Diameter 



A PICNIC 



35 



faces with a thick pile of silvery satin hairs. 
Large fields of Arums (our lovely calla lily) grow 
as weeds and mark the paths of the streams with their 
stately white and gold flowers. Pig lilies they are 
called, as they are eagerly eaten by the long razor- 
back pigs. 




SOUTH AFRICAN WEEDS — ARUM LILIES 



Pelargoniums (the household geranium) grow in 
great variety, and beautiful orchids may be gathered 
by the hundreds. 

When our picnic party return to the carriage at 
dinner time, they bring with them a beautiful collec- 
tion of flowers and ferns. While some are prepar- 



36 SOUTH AFRICA AND THE EAST COAST 

ing dinner, others are decorating the doors and win- 
dows of our carriage, and even the two end platforms 
are soon transformed into bowers of green vines and 
flowers. 

As we journey homeward in our gayly decorated 
carriage, the young people of our party tell us some- 
thing of their work and we learn how the life of an 
African student differs from that of an American 
student. 



EDUCATION 

The examination system of England and Scot- 
land exists here. The j^ear's work is tested by a 
week's examination at the end. The papers are set 
by inspectors for the lower grades, and the Univer- 
sity of the Cape of Good Hope, an examining body, 
sets the questions for the candidates for a college de- 
gree. On the same day and at the same hour, young 
people a thousand or more miles apart are answering 
identical questions, and your friend in Central Africa 
may ask you at the Cape how you answered the fifth 
question in arithmetic. The all-important subject in 
South Africa is arithmetic, and perhaps the reason 
that much more time is given to it than in our coun- 
try is because it is more difficult to work with pounds, 
shillings, and pence than with our decimal dollars 
and cents. 

The lists of successful candidates are published in 
all the dairy papers, and if you pass first in your class 
all of South Africa knows it. The government is 
most generous in giving prizes and scholarships. A 
girl of seventeen from Huguenot College earned in 
her first year of college work about four thousand 
dollars in scholarships, so here study may be made 
profitable in more senses than one. 

Man}'' of the children on the lonely, scattered 



38 SOUTH AFRICA AND THE EAST COAST 

farms may be too young to go away to school, or they 
may be too poor. For these there is the farm-school. 
The teacher boards in the farmer's family and the lit- 
tle flock is taught in the home. The families on the 
farms usually number from ten to twenty children, 
but for as few as six the government shares in the 
expenses of the school. 

Our patriotism goes no farther than the United 
States — our country is the land in which we live; not 
so with the British colonist. His ambition is to be 
rich enough to send his son or daughter to study in 
the land which he calls home, even after an absence 
of perhaps a score of years. This may give a wider 
experience, but it does not increase affection for the 
land of one's birth, and the schools are thereby im- 
poverished. 

The young people of South Africa have unusually 
good memories, and their out-of-door life makes 
them keenly observant. 

In the rough farmhouse with its mud floors, the 
piano is a necessary piece of furniture. The young 
people are as keen about their music examinations as 
about their record in other studies. Much time is 
spent on technique and the teaching is very thorough. 
Questions are set on musical theory, and examiners 
from England travel through South Africa once a 
year, and each pupil performs in turn before these in- 
spectors. The one passing highest in the most ad- 
vanced division (there are four divisions) is awarded 



EDUCATION 39 

an exhibition (scholarship) of seven hundred and 
fifty dollars a year for three successive years. With 
this money the successful candidate must go to Lon- 
don to study at the Royal Academy or the Royal Col- 
lege of Music. Besides this prize there are ten or 
more fifty dollar bursaries (scholarships) given 
yearly to those pupils who show great musical ability 
and promise. A really talented pupil can not com- 
plain of lack of encouragement in his musical am- 
bitions. 



THE CANGO CAVES 

The two great natural wonders of South Africa 
are the Victoria Falls and the Cango Caves. They 
are visited by tourists not only for their marvelous 
beauty but also for their geological interest. Amer- 
icans are accused of boasting that they have the larg- 
est of everything in their country, but Victoria Falls 
surpass Niagara in size and the Cango Caves are 
probably the largest limestone caves in the world. 

The most interesting things in Africa are not for 
the hurried tourist. Any route from Cape Town to 
the Cango Caves involves a post-cart journey, and at 
least one night on the train. The usual journey is 
from Cape Town to Prince Albert Road, thence over 
the mountain a day's journey by post-cart. The drive 
does not seem long because of the surpassing beauty 
of the scenery. We go through the rocky pass of the 
Zwartberg Mountains and along the famous Cango 
Valley. No artist's picture can rival in color the 
lovely sunset tints which change from gorgeous red 
and gold to softest purple and gray. 

We spend the night at the little Cango Inn, and 
after a late breakfast are ready for our hard day of 
exploring. We have been warned at the inn that two 
things are necessary — an experienced guide and a 
plentiful supply of candles. We question the ex- 
perience of the youthful guide whom the innkeeper 



THE CANGO CAVES 



41 



brings to us, but the boy explains that the position of 
guide to the caves is hereditary in his family, and we 
find before our exploring is finished that he has the 
wisdom of his ancestors 
and the daring of youth. 
A short climb up a hill- 
side brings us to an im- 
posing portico of over- 
hanging rock, not unlike 
the entrance to a great 
theatre. 

We are rather disap- 
pointed because our guide 
has no thrilling stories to 
tell about those who have 
been lost in the caves; 
not even a dog has been 
entombed here, for a mas- 
sive iron gate bars our 

entrance, which only the official guide can open. 
These caves were discovered more than a hundred 
years ago by a shepherd who followed the track of 
his strayed sheep to the cave's entrance. This great 
cavern in the heart of the mountains has never been 
fully explored — the best estimate of its extent is 
furnished by our guide : " You can walk until you are 
tired, and then there is a lot that you haven't seen." 

The iron gate clangs shut and our guide, like the 
Pied Piper of Hamelin, leads us enchanted into the 




CANGO CAVES 
ENTRANCE TO CAVES 



42 



SOUTH AFRICA AND THE EAST COAST 



depths of the mountain. We walk gropingly until 
our eyes forget the glare of the sun and we become 
accustomed to the light of our flickering candles. A 
long hall leads into an immense chamber the size 
of which we realize more fully when the guide illumi- 
nates it with a magnesium ribbon. This is Van Zyl's 
chamber, named for the discoverer. We can imagine 
how the simple herdsman marveled to find himself 
in such a strange apartment. Giant stalactites like 
glistening icicles hang from the vaulted ceiling; we 

can almost imagine our- 
selves in one of the famed 
art galleries of Europe, 
wandering through a room 
where many of the great 
masters' works are in 
broken fragments, for the 
sharply pointed stalag- 
mites have often been 
broken off, forming ped- 
estals surmounted by 
strange figures. From 
room to room we pass un- 
til we arrive at the bride's 
chamber, a bower of lacy 
filigree. A white dressing 
table with a graceful canopy awaits the bride. The 
bride is evidently not far away, for her open parasol, 
daintily flounced, stands near the table. 




CANGO CAVES 
NEW COLUMN CHAMBER 



THE CANGO CAVES 



43 



Minerals have stained the crystals various colors. 
One chamber is lined with shining gray, and there are 
other rooms where the limestone shades into pinks and 
yellows. The chambers lead into one another, some- 
times by wide arches, sometimes by openings so small 




CANGO CAVES. THE OI,D THRONE ROOM 

that we force our way through with difficulty. Now 
we come to a staircase leading to an upper story of 
splendid apartments, which we explore. 

The hazardous part of our journey is before us; 
with candle in hand we begin to descend a perpendicu- 
lar rope ladder, thirty feet long. The perilous descent 
is well rewarded. The new series of chambers is even 



44 SOUTH AFRICA AND THE EAST COAST 

finer than those we have left behind us. Here the 
rooms are draped with long soft curtains of translu- 
cent white. A light placed behind the drapery shows 
the beauty of these luminous folds. 

In some of the little grottoes we pass, the stalac- 
tites, a few inches in length, take on queer twisted 
shapes, and sometimes the walls of the rooms are a 
mass of curly tendrils in many delicate colors. The 
continual drip, drip, in the farther caverns, tells us 
that the water stored up in the mountain is still slowly 
percolating through the cave walls with its burden of 
limestone. No one can estimate how long these caves 
have been forming, but we know that it is a long, long 
story. 

The warm water flowing beneath the surface of the 
earth, usually under X3ressure, has carbon dioxide in 
solution. This is capable of dissolving the limestone 
strata through which it works its way, and so the cave 
is formed. As the water comes to the surface and in 
contact with the air, the carbon dioxide evaporates. 
The drop can no longer hold its tiny particle in solu- 
tion but leaves it as a small contribution to the form- 
ing stalactite. If, however, the water drop succeeds 
in carrying its dissolved limestone with it in its fall to 
the ground, the separation is only delayed a little 
longer. The water finally evaporates after having 
done its share toward building up a growing stalag- 
mite. This almost imperceptible growth goes on until 
the stalactites and stalagmites meet and form the 



THE CANGO CAVES 45 

stately pillars that give the semblance of strength to 
the cave. 

A two hours' walk from the entrance of the cave 
brings us to a great rough cavern, very different in 
appearance from the delicate white chambers through 
which we have passed. The hard gray rock is over 
us, and everywhere is a chaos of broken fragments of 
stone. It is as though a great cave had been formed, 
and the pressure of the mountain had crushed its 
walls and covered the floor with the broken pieces. 
So complete is the ruin and chaos that "The Devil's 
Workshop" seems a fitting name. 

"Have we seen it all?" we ask the guide. "You 
have seen as much as most people," he replies, and we 
take this as a hint that it is time to turn back. 

The guide hurries on and w T e lose sight of him. 
"Let us blow out our lights and scare him," some one 
suggests. We sit crouched in utter blackness, rest- 
ing and enjoying our supply of oranges. Many min- 
utes pass and we grow tired of our joke. Our faint 
halloo is answered by some one very near us. It is our 
boyish guide who has been playing the same trick on 
us only a few feet away. How good the first streaks 
of daylight seem! We realize how wonderful it is to 
be a creature of the sunlight and open air. 

The four hours in the cave have not improved our 
appearance — the narrow passages through which we 
have crawled with so much difficulty have left their 
traces, and our hands, faces and erarments are daubed 



46 



SOUTH AFRICA AND THE EAST COAST 



with wet clay and mud. However, none of our party 
had the unfortunate experience of the fat man about 
whom the guide tells us. The smallest of the holes 
held him fast until the guide came to his rescue, and 
persuaded him that he must give up the caverns be- 
yond. 

We hasten down the hillside to the clear river. Af- 
ter an hour's hard work and a complete change of cos- 
tume we are ready for the drive along the road to 
Oudtshoorn. An early dinner, and we are on our 




ON AN OSTRICH FARM 



way. All the ruggedness of scenery is behind us — 
now we look across peaceful valleys and quiet streams. 
Flocks of sheep, and hundreds of ostriches in the 
same enclosures, are nibbling and pecking the green 
lucerne (alfalfa). As we drive along over the 



THE CANGO CAVES 47 

smoothest of walled roads the ostriches come near 
the fence and seem to look at us with curiosity. The 
plain gray mother-bird, the black and white father- 
bird, and the scrawny little baby ostriches make an 
interesting family. These children improve as they 
grow older, but in their infant stages they are as 
bristling as porcupines. Everywhere are the orange 
groves for which this part of the country is famous. 
The Kafir children swarming about the doorways of 
their gray huts seem to feel the contagion of our 
happiness in being alive and in the sunlight, and 
wave and call to us until we are out of sight. 



"UP-COUNTRY" JOURNEY 

In planning a long journey through South Africa 
one has no such choice of routes as is to be had in the 
United States. The only long railway line in South 
Africa starts from Cape Town and runs north to 
De Aar, 500 miles, at which place it branches south- 
eastward to Port Elizabeth and other cities on the 
seacoast, and northeast to Johannesburg and Kim- 
berley. On this trip we shall go first to Kimberley, 
on the Zambesi Express, a thirty hours' ride from 
Cape Town, and a distance of about six hundred and 
fifty miles. From which we see that the average speed 
of this express train is about twenty-one miles an hour 
— we in America would call it a slow freight, would 
we not? But the South African express has some 
advantages over the American trains that tear 
through the country at fifty miles or more an hour — 
the almost absolute safety in making a journey and 
the fine opportunity of seeing the country through 
which one is leisurely passing. 

For about fifty miles beyond Wellington the rail- 
way winds in and out among the mountains, and 
from the scenery one might easily imagine himself 
in Switzerland. The beautiful sunset tints on the 
Hex Mountains are not unlike the Alpine glow which 
all too soon fades from our view. The railway takes 
a spiral path up one high mountain, passing now 



"up-country" journey 49 

and then through small tunnels, and from our win- 
dow we can look far down below us and see our track 
in several places. The Hex River valley is renowned 
throughout South Africa for its beautiful fruit — at 
all the stations colored boys besiege us with their bas- 
kets of tempting wares. We lean far out our window 
and buy luscious grapes in large clusters of a pound 
or more, also peaches and plums, which resemble our 
beautiful California fruit — in fact, these very grapes 
that we have just bought are probably from vines 
transplanted from far-distant California, to which 
state so many Africanders go to learn the best meth- 
ods of fruit raising. 

We soon leave the grand and rocky mountains be- 
hind us, and then begins the most tiresome part of 
our journey, traveling through the Karroo. 

THE KARROO 

The Karroo is a vast shallow basin and is supposed 
to be the bed of a prehistoric lake, the waters of 
which later broke through the surrounding mountain 
ranges and flowed into the sea. Its altitude varies 
from 1,800 to 2,500 feet above the sea level. Some 
of the mountains on the rim are from 4,000 to 8,000 
feet high, while others dwindle down to mere hills. 
There are numerous beds of rivers and small streams, 
dry, or nearly so, the greater part of the year; how- 
ever, after a heavy thunderstorm in the summer these 
streams are raging torrents for a short time only, 



50 SOUTH AFRICA AND THE EAST COAST 

for they soon again become dry. Generally speak- 
ing, the Karroo is a desert, still the soil is very fer- 
tile, and where irrigation has been tried the results 
are most gratifying. 

In the dry season the wind sweeps across the Kar- 
roo, blowing great clouds of dust, which obscure the 
view in every direction; the passengers on the train 
can not see the towns which they are approaching un- 
til they arrive at the stations. Sometimes the view is 
hidden not by dust clouds, but by great swarms of 
locusts, there being millions of the insects. This 
pest will often sweep down on a district and in a few 
hours the crops and fruit for miles around will be 
totally destroyed. Just here it might be . interesting 
to note that roasted locusts (the wings having first 
been removed) are served as a delicate dish by some 
of the best families of South Africa. 

In the rainy season the Karroo is an excellent graz- 
ing ground for sheep and the flocks rapidly increase. 
The general aspect of the vegetation when at its best 
is not a green color, such as is characteristic of Amer- 
ican plains, but rather a bluish gray. This peculiar 
hue is caused by the lime-incrusted, wax-covered, or 
hairy leaves. The Karroo is the home of the Mes- 
em-bry-an-the-mum, to which family our cultivated 
ice-plant belongs. Karroo flowers belonging to this 
order are sometimes three inches across and gorgeous 
in their coloring, ranging from pale saffron to 
brilliant orange, and from white and pink to deepest 



"up-country" journey 51 

crimson and magenta. In some places in the Karroo, 
wells have been successfully bored, but the water is 
often of an alkaline or salty nature, in which event it 
parches the soil. Much of the vegetation shows in 
the leaves this salty nature of the soil. 

In a journey through the Karroo, the passenger on 
the train sees very little of interest from his window 
and he welcomes the darkness of night which shuts 
out the monotony of the scene and the heat of the 
day. At Matjesfontein (Matches- fontain) we are 
reminded of the battle fought there in the recent 
Boer War. This was also the home before her mar- 
riage of the writer, Olive Schreiner (Ralph Iron), 
who at the age of nineteen became famous through 
her book, "The Story of an African Farm." This 
town is a resort for consumptives, because of the dry 
air of the Karroo winter. 

Beaufort West is the largest Karroo town. The 
large dam (reservoir) just outside the town supplies 
water to the village through the long periods of 
drought which the region often suffers. This dis- 
trict is a fine example of what irrigation will do for 
a desert. 

Gardens of flowers and fruit beautify the town, 
and the avenues of pear trees that scatter their petals 
in September are the pride of the residents. 

Young ladies in white daintily frilled gowns meet 
us at the station with cakes and hot coffee, as is the 
hospitable custom of the country when people know 



52 SOUTH AFRICA AND THE EAST COAST 

that friends are passing through their town. In spite 
of the blinding dust storm in which we have arrived 
at Beaufort West, our friends express their delight in 
a recent six inches of rainfall, which is more than the 
total annual rainfall in several previous years. 

The towns and villages along the line look much 
alike, and the farther up country we go the more in- 
evidence are tin and corrugated iron as building ma- 
terial. We have actually seen small rude dwellings 
and even shops made entirely of the tin from old 
paraffin (kerosene) tins. All the oil in this coun- 
try is imported, usually from America, in four-gallon 
tins, and no one who has not traveled in South Africa 
can imagine the various uses to which the empty 
cans are put. These tins often have their upper edges 
rolled over artistically and after having been painted 
red or green are transformed into flower pots. Where 
large cans are needed for jams and preserves one 
finds the fruit put up in these same paraffin tins. 
The farmer, too, uses them for carrying his butter 
to market, and the housewives are sometimes troubled 
with the butter thus savoring of oil. 

What can that woman be carrying who is just 
about to board our train at Letjes-Bosch (Lettys- 
Bush) ? It is the inevitable paraffin tin, but with a 
good padlock and a firm handle the transformation 
into a hat box is most unique. By the way, the ma- 
jority of the people in this country travel with tin 
hat boxes and tin trunks. If you go up country 



"up-country" journey 53 

with a smart new leather box (trunk) just from Eng- 
land, you may find next morning a few scattered 
shreds of leather; but that is the story of the white 
ants which we shall tell later. 

The parting sight is a Kafir boy carrying a four- 
cornered pail on his head, the paraffin tin in another 
guise. We admire his poise as he bows to his friends, 
seemingly unconscious of his burden. The children 
are trained in this art from early youth. The mother 
weaves a small straw circlet to support the weight on 
the head of her child, who carries at the same time her 
youngest brother or sister on her back. Gradually 
the burden is increased until it is no uncommon sight 
to see a woman coming home at night with the mor- 
row's wood on her head, a baby on her back, and a 
pail in either hand. The women become very skillful 
in balancing. We have seen a graceful Kafir girl 
carrying a tall vinegar bottle on her head. Not a 
drop was spilled as she stooped beneath the fence and 
continued her walk without having raised her hands 
to her head to steady the burden. 

On this journey we have a good opportunity of see- 
ing the kopjes (copies) that caused the British army 
so much trouble in the late war. The monotony of 
the Karroo is broken by what appear to be earth 
mounds made by a giant mole. On closer view we 
are inclined to think that a New England farmer has 
piled all the stones from his land in great heaps. The 
kopjes vary in size from a mound no greater than a 



54 



SOUTH AFRICA AND THE EAST COAST 



large haystack to a hill that could screen a small 
army in time of war, and, indeed, the British and Boer 

soldiers played 
many a game 
of hide and seek 
around these 
hills. 

Besides these 
natural defen- 
ses the line of 
war is marked 
by block houses 
and lonely cem- 
eteries. Where 
the block hous- 
es are still stand- 
ing we see they 
are like little 
round or square 
towers built of 
stone or corru- 
gated iron, 
large enough to accommodate from four to ten 
soldiers. Their perfect condition speaks of a very 
recent war. The heaped up rings of earth, mark- 
ing the places where these defenses have been de- 
stroyed, are not unlike the tenting-ground of a 
great circus the day after its departure, when the gray 
light of morning dispels the glamor of action and 




•BLOCK HOUSE 



"up-country" journey 55 

peril. Boer and Briton rest side by side on the field 
for which they fought, their graves marked by count- 
less little white crosses. The desolation of the Kar- 
roo tells the old story of man's striving to gain what 
is not worth the holding. 

Our time table indicates the struggle of the Dutch 
and English for supremacy, but in the uninviting 
tracts of country such as this certainly is, the Dutch 
names predominate. Our guide book gives us eight 
towns ending in "fontein" (fountain or spring) ; this 
does not mean that there is plenty of water, for we 
are still in the Karroo. These towns, originally the 
sites of farms, were called "Mynfontein" (my foun- 
tain), and other fonteins by the farmer, who having 
found on his farm a tiny spring, perhaps, published 
the fact in the name. There is the "City of the Foun- 
tain of Flowers," "Bloemfontein," and the less poet- 
ical though no less actually existing "PufFadder fon- 
tein." Every abiding place has its name — the small- 
est village and even the most modest little cottage. 
The variety in names shows the cosmopolitan nature 
of South African home-makers. In Cape Town, for 
instance, on the gatepost of the handsome house of 
a Malay doctor we read "Noorbach;" there is "Bon- 
nie Brae," for the Scotchman; and the German ex- 
presses his contentment by "Friedenheim." 

About three hours from Kimberley we cross the 
Orange River, the boundary between Cape Colony 
and the Orange River Colony; before the war this 



56 SOUTH AFRICA AND THE EAST COAST 

was the Orange Free State, a name to which the 
Dutch still cling. 

As our train draws near to Kimberley we seem to 
be passing through tin villages, for the little huts of 
the locations are built of old paraffin tins or well 
patched with them. A location is a settlement of na- 
tives just beyond the limits of a town, without any of 
the picturesqueness of a Kafir kraal (a collection of 
huts surrounded by a fence ) , where reeds and thatch 
lend a charm to which the contributions from the 
Standard Oil Company could not add. 

Sometimes a Kafir builds his location hut very sim- 
ply, with four upright poles and a piece of sail cloth. 
Speaking of sail cloth, there are many uses of this 
material in South Africa. Instead of freight being 
stored in buildings well protected from the wind and 
weather, at station after station it lies on the ground 
covered over with very heavy sail cloth painted dark 
gray. Great piles of goods awaiting shipment often 
rise to the height of a two-story building, resembling, 
in the twilight, with their gray draperies, a caravan 
of huge elephants. 



KIMBERLEY 

The underground cavern lined with precious stones 
where Aladdin found his wonderful lamp is sup- 
posed to be in Arabia within the domains of Haroun- 
al-Raschid, but there is one very like it in South 
Africa within the kingdom of Edward VII. In the 
blue caves of Kimberley the diamonds do not sparkle 
from the walls, but just because they are more diffi- 
cult to find, the search is more exciting than it could 
possibly have been in Aladdin's cave. Some forty 
years ago a shining pebble was found by chance on 
the sands of the Vaal River; then began the search 
for diamonds which has continued ever since by day 
and by night. 

The following interesting account of the finding 
of the first diamond was given recently by Mr. Gard- 
ner F. Williams, a former manager of the De Beers 
diamond mines: 

"The first diamond in South Africa was found by 
the children of a trekking Boer named Daniel Jacobs. 
He was a poor farmer, who made his home in a 
squalid hovel on the banks of the Orange River near 
the little settlement of Hopetown. It was roughly 
partitioned to form a bedroom and kitchen, and its 
earthen floor was smeared weekly with a polishing 
paste of filth and water. Father, mother and children 
slept together on a rude frame overlaced with raw- 
hide strips. Here the children were brought up with 



58 SOUTH AFRICA AND THE EAST COAST 

little more care than the goats and sheep that browsed 
on the kopjes. When the herds were turned out of 
the kraal the children ran after them and roamed 
over the pasture land all day long like the flocks, but 
the instinct of childhood will find playthings on 
the face of the most barren karroo, and the Jacobs 
children were close to the edge of a river which was 
strewn with uncommonly beautiful pebbles mixed 
with coarser gravel. 

"A heap of these parti-colored stones was so com- 
mon a sight in the yard or on the floor of a farm- 
house on the banks of the Orange or the Vaal that 
none of the plodding Boers gave it a second glance. 
But when the children tossed the stones about, a little 
white pebble was so sparkling in the sunlight that it 
caught the eye of the farmer's wife. She did not 
care enough for it to pick it up, but spoke of it as a 
curious stone to a neighbor, Schalk van Niekerk. 
Van Niekerk asked to see it, but it was not in the 
heap. One of the children had rolled it away in the 
yard. After some little search it was found in the 
dust, for nobody on the farm would stoop for such a 
trifle. When Van Niekerk wiped the dust off, the 
little stone glittered so prettily that he offered to buy 
it. The good vrouw laughed at the idea of selling 
a pebble. 'You can keep the stone if you want it,' 
she said. So Van Niekerk put it in his pocket and 
carried it home. He had only a vague notion that 
it might have some value, and put it in the hands of a 



KIMBERLEY 59 

traveling trader, John O'Reilly, who undertook to 
find out what kind of a stone the little crystal was 
and whether it could be sold. 

"He showed the stone to several Jews in Hopetown 
and in Colesburg, a settlement farther up the Orange 
River valley. No one of these would give a penny 
for it. 'It is a pretty stone enough,' they said, 'prob- 
ably a topaz,' but nobody would pay anything for it. 

"Perhaps O'Reilly Avould have thrown the stone 
away if it had not come under the eye of the acting 
civil commissioner at Colesburg, Lorenzo Boyes. 
Mr. Boyes found on trial that the stone would 
scratch glass. 

" 'I believe it to be a diamond,' he observed gravely. 

"O'Reilly was greatly cheered up. 'You are the 
only man I have seen,' he said, 'who says it is worth 
anything. Whatever it is worth, you shall have a 
share in it.' 

" 'Nonsense,' broke in Dr. Kirsch, a private 
apothecary of the town, who was present, 'I'll bet 
Boyes a new hat it is only a topaz.' 

" 'I'll take the bet,' replied Mr. Boyes, and at his 
suggestion the stone was sent for determination to 
the foremost mineralogist of the colony, Dr. W. 
Guybon Atherstone, residing at Grahamstown. It 
was so lightly valued that it was put in an unsealed 
envelope and carried to Grahamstown in the regular 
postcart. 

"When the postboy handed the letter to Mr. Ath- 



60 SOUTH AFRICA AND THE EAST COAST 

erstone the little river stone fell out and rolled away. 
The doctor picked it up and read the letter of trans- 
mission. Then he examined the pebble expertly and 
wrote to Mr. Boyes: 'I congratulate you on the 
stone you have sent me. It is a veritable diamond, 
weighs twenty-one and a quarter carats, and is worth 
£500.' Sir Philip Wodehouse, the governor at the 
Cape, bought the rough diamond at once, at the value 
fixed by Dr. Atherstone. The stone was sent im- 
mediately to the Paris Exposition, where it was 
viewed with much interest, but its discovery at first 
did not cause any great sensation. 

"Meanwhile Mr. Boyes hastened to Hopetown and 
to Van Niekerk's farm to search along the river shore 
where the first diamond was found. He prodded the 
phlegmatic farmers and their black servants, raked 
over many bushels of pebbles for two weeks, but 
no second diamond repaid his labor. Still the news 
of the finding of the first stone made the farmers 
near the river look sharply at every heap of pebbles 
in the hope of finding one of the precious 'blink 
klippe' (bright stones), as the Boers named the dia- 
mond, and many bits of shining rock crystal were 
carefully pocketed, in the persuasion that the glitter- 
ing stones were diamonds. But it was ten months 
from the time of the discovery at Hopetown before 
a second diamond was found, and this was in a spot 
more than thirty miles away, on the river bank below 
the junction of the Vaal and Orange rivers. 



KIMBERLEY 61 

"In March, 1869, a superb white diamond, weigh- 
ing 1 83.5 carats, was picked up by a Griqua shepherd 
boy on the farm Zendf ontein, near the Orange River. 
Schalk van Niekerk bought this stone for a mon- 
strous price in the eyes of the poor shepherd — 
500 sheep, ten oxen and a horse — but the lucky pur- 
chaser sold it easily for £11,200 to Lilienf eld Brothers 
of Hopetown, and it was subsequently purchased by 
Earl Dudley for £25,000. This extraordinary gem, 
which soon became famous as the 'Star of South 
Africa,' drew all eyes to a field which could yield 
such products, and the existence and position of dia- 
mond beds was soon further assured and defined by 
the finding of many smaller stones in the alluvial 
gravel on the banks of the Vaal. 

"From the time of Solomon and the Queen of 
Sheba, however, adventurers have been searching in 
Africa for the source of the gold and jewels, the 
marvels of Ophir, which they displayed, and, al- 
though it is mostly conjecture, a large part of the 
wealth of the scriptural kings and millionaires no 
doubt came from the interior of Africa. The tradi- 
tions of King Solomon's mines lured thousands of 
enterprising explorers into the wilderness, and it is 
perhaps true that they have been discovered. An in- 
trepid German explorer named Carl Mauch in 1871 
discovered an extraordinary lot of ruins at Zimbabwe, 
and gold fields closely adjacent to them. These 
have been called the ruined cities of Mashonaland. 



62 SOUTH AFRICA AND THE EAST COAST 

Unfortunately for his credit as an archaeologist, 
Mauch insisted that an old building on a hill was a 
copy of King Solomon's temple on Mount Moriah, 
and that the lower ruins reproduced the palace inhab- 
ited by the Queen of Sheba during her stay of sev- 
eral years in Jerusalem. This does not impair, how- 
ever, the probable accuracy of his main contention, 
that he had revealed part of the ancient workings of 
the people who furnished the gold to Arabia and 
Judea in the days of Solomon. 

"Without entering into the varied researches, it 
may be observed that Ophir was not the source of 
the gold, but a port on the south coast of Arabia 
through which the flow of gold came by sea. Havi- 
lah was the land whence came the gold of Ophir, 
a great tract in southeastern Africa, largely identi- 
fied with modern Rhodesia. The ancient gold work- 
ings of this region were first opened by South Ara- 
bian Himyarites, who were followed (but not before 
the time of Solomon) by the Phenicians, and these 
very much later by Moslem Arabs. Tharshish was 
the outlet for the precious metals and stones of Havi- 
lah, and stood probably on the present site of Sofala. 
The Queen of Sheba came by land and not over the 
seas to the court of Solomon. Her kingdom was 
Yemen, Arabia, where our mocha coffee comes 

from." 

The diamond industry has transformed this spot in 
the desert into a busy world. For Kimberley is a stir- 



KIMBERLEY 



63 



ring city, if not an imposing one. Broad dusty ave- 
nues lined on either side with low brick cottages make 
up the residence portion of the town. The shops are 
interesting enough, but the purchases we planned to 
make we are 
obliged to 
postpone. Dia- 
monds are not 
given away in 
Kimberley — 
New York or 
Amsterdam 
offers better 
bargains. The 
reason for this 
is found in the 
fact that the 
diamonds in 
the rough are 
sent to Holland 
chiefly, for 
cutting; when 
the stone is 
returned to Af- 
rica it must pay 
a fairly heavy 

duty, then add to this the increased price due to high 
rents, and we find that the home of the diamond is not 
the best place to buy it. 




KIMBERLEY DIAMOND MINE 



64 SOUTH AFRICA AND THE EAST COAST 

At the end of the principal street is a great ex- 
cavation, which is pointed to with pride as the biggest 
hole in the world dug out by hand. A number of 
our tallest sky-scrapers could be inverted in this hole 
and completely buried. 

This excavation was begun in the days when every 
man staked off his own claim and the mining was 
done with pick and shovel. The thousands of small 
holdings have all been merged into one great com- 
pany — the De Beers Consolidated. 

The earth is no longer removed by the patient la- 
borer with his shovel. Let us begin with one of the 
largest of the Kimberley open mines and trace the 
process of diamond mining as it is scientifically car- 
ried on today. We look over the edge of the Wessel- 
ton hole — so deep is it that the toilers down below 
look like little brownies with their barrows. At a sig- 
nal we see them scampering in all directions and dis- 
appearing within mysterious caves in the hillsides. 
We accept the suggestion to retreat within the little 
summer house protected by an iron screen. There is 
a dull rumble and a small volcano breaks forth below 
us — then a greater shock, and rocks and soil in an- 
other part of the mine are thrown in all directions. 
It seems as if the enraged Cyclops have at last been 
able to lift the awful mass of earth which has been 
pressing upon them during the long ages and are 
breaking forth everywhere full of violence and 
wrath. A dozen more explosions and the brownies 



KIMBERLEY 



65 



come forth from their hiding places and begin load- 
ing the broken masses of hard bine ground. Each 
car with its bur- 
den of invisible 
diamonds be- 
gins the ascent. 
There seems an 
endless proces- 
sion of cars as 
they follow each 
other on their 
way to the de- 
positing floors. 
Five million car 
loads are taken 
from the mines 
in a year and 
"laboriously 
washed and 
sorted for the 
sake of a few 
bucketfuls of 
diamonds. The 

earth removed would form a cube of more than 430 feet, 
or a block larger than any cathedral in the world, and 
overtopping the spire of St. Paul's, while a box with 
sides measuring 2 feet 9 inches would hold the gems." 
The diamond-bearing soil is spread out on the 
ground to be broken up by the action of air and water. 




66 SOUTH AFRICA AND THE EAST COAST 

The blue stone, which seems almost as hard as marble 
when first unearthed, after being exposed from three 
to nine months, becomes pulverized. Formerly the 
depositing floors were harrowed by the aid of mules, 
but now a modern steam harrow does the work of 
spreading and turning over the soil. You may be 
sure this precious soil is all safely enclosed and care- 
fully guarded. 

With miles of precious ground exposed it would 
seem that thieving might be a simple matter, and that 
a sparkling gem might tempt the passerby to brave 
the dangers of a barbed wire fence. But after all 
this coaxing of the soil there is still no evidence of dia- 
monds, and the manager of the mines says that dur- 
ing the fifteen years that he has overlooked these 
floors he has never seen a diamond there. But sup- 
pose a thief did see one and succeeded in making off 
with his prize, it would prove a heavy weight and he 
would be only too glad to return his unsalable booty. 
For every diamond mined is registered and to attempt 
to leave the country with an unregistered diamond in 
one's possession or to sell it is a crime. Furthermore 
if you should find a diamond in your own garden, it 
is not yours — so closely do the laws of the country 
protect the De Beers monopoly. 

Sometimes a Kafir discovers imbedded in the wall 
of some dark passage a shining stone, which if it 
does not prove to be as big as Aladdin's roc's egg, is 
valuable enough to make him as rich as a Kafir wants 



KIMBERLEY 



67 



to be. He could not hope to escape from the closely 
encircling compound, — even if he did, an attempt to 
sell his prize would probably mean years of work on 
the breakwater, or he might be returned to the mines 
as a convict laborer. If the laborer brings his find 
at once to the overseer he is rewarded according to the 
value of the diamond. A convict receives a small 
sum for every carat, whereas a free Kafir is paid 
more. In the company's office we see one recently 
found as large as a pigeon's egg. The reward of 
about $150 enables the finder to return to his native 
haunts to live a Kafir's ideal life — a life of idleness. 
We admire the beauty stored up in this great stone, 
but we are told that it is less valuable than many 
smaller ones because of its delicate hue. 

At the end of the necessary number of months, the 
immense carpet of "blue" is again taken up. A fur- 
ther treatment had to be devised to persuade the stub- 
born earth to yield up its prize. After leaving the 
depositing floors the blue ground is mixed with water 
and washed, to separate diamonds and equally heavy 
minerals from lighter material. 

Until recently the separation of the diamonds from 
the other stones was not an easy matter, as it was 
done chiefly by hand-sorting. A discovery, a matter 
of chance, revolutionized diamond mining. You 
know how prospectors in the gold fields "pan out" by 
mixing the soil with water, and shaking it, that the 
heavy particles may fall to the bottom of the pan. 



68 



SOUTH AFRICA AND THE EAST COAST 



Where the mining is conducted on a little larger scale, 
the gravel mixed with water flows over a mercury bed ; 
the quicksilver seizes the fine gold and holds it. The 





■V" i* ^v v^i 





HEADGEAR DE BEERS MINE 



amalgam formed may be broken up by heating — the 
liquid mercury evaporates and the gold is set free. 
Diamond mining is very similar. The diamond is a 
comparatively heavy stone. By washing and shaking, 
the lighter materials can be separated from the dia- 



KIMBERLEY 69 

monds and other heavy stones, but the question was 
how to separate the diamonds from pebbles of an al- 
most equal weight. A workman one day noticed that 
when he shook some of the earth prepared for wash- 
ing in a greasy pail, that had held his dinner, a dia- 
mond clung to the bottom. A further investigation 
showed the affinity of grease and diamonds. Rubies 
and emeralds show a similar fondness for an oily sur- 
face, but grease is particular, and when cheaper stones 
try to cling to the shaking grease-covered pans, called 
the pulsator, they are at once discarded and go tum- 
bling along with the water, while every diamond is 
seized and tightly held. It is a fascinating sight to 
see the white crystals separate themselves from the 
other pebbles — quartz looks very like the diamond, 
and when it falls on the greasy plate it goes rattling on 
down the incline, while every diamond remains firmly 
lodged where it first touches its greasy bed. The 
stupid grease never makes a mistake, and we wonder 
that it can discriminate better than our eyes or even 
more experienced ones. 

Every two or three hours the grease is scraped from 
the pans — it becomes useless when mixed with water 
from constant washing. This yellow pudding, with 
diamonds for plums, is heated; the grease disappears 
and the diamonds, mixed with a small amount of 
worthless material of an equal specific gravity, are 
sent to the sorting table. The sorter knows the qual- 
ity and the comparative size at a glance and the dia- 



70 SOUTH AFKICA AND THE EAST COAST 

monds are divided accordingly. In the room where 
the parcels are being prepared for shipment there are 
heaps of crystals of varying sizes and qualities, grad- 
ing down from the stones of many carats to tiny bril- 
liants. The dull gray ones are used for cutting, 
though sometimes it is found worth while to take a 
small white morsel out of the imperfect gray crystals. 
You may bathe your hands in diamonds and let quarts 
of the beautiful smooth white stones slip through your 
fingers. They are beautiful even in an uncut state, and 





^p^^^§SSS^^II^BtKIM 












- ■ ,. . ~;. ■ 





A day's diamond wash op de BEERS CO. 

have the delightful waxy feeling of satin-spar. Near- 
ly all of them are perfect crystals of the octahedron 
type, being made up of two four-faced pyramids, 
base to base. 

Now and then they appear in fantastic shapes or 
assume strange colors — in the strong room they show 



KIMBERLEY 



71 



us diamonds as yellow as amber and others that take 
on various shades of pink and green. By some freak 
of nature one diamond has imprinted upon it the face 
of a clock, another a church steeple, and on a third 
there is deeply engraven the letter "Y." Sometimes 
one crystal forms within another, or a diamond crys- 
tallizes around a garnet. Small garnets are found in 
abundance mixed with the blue ground, and are given 
the name of Cape rubies. 

If you chance to visit the sorting room on Thurs- 
day an "attendant will say to you: "What a pity you 
did not come on Monday, the day for giving away 
small diamonds!" Had you gone there on Monday, 
then Thursday would have been the lucky day — it is 
any day except the day you come. After this joke 
you are recompensed for your disappointment by a 
gift of a handful of Cape rubies. 

The few quarts of diamonds that we see represent 
the labor of an army of about 18,000 natives and 
3,000 white men. Let us go next to a compound — the 
very interesting enclosure where the natives are 
housed. The name suggests a herding together of 
humanity, but here the Kafir learns more of the com- 
forts of life than he ever knew before. All along the 
railway line hungry natives beg for food — the only 
reason they do not seek a home in the compounds 
where there is the certainty of work and good pay is 
because of their natural aversion to anything in the 
line of exertion. The laborer who enters the com- 



72 



SOUTH AFRICA AND THE EAST COAST 



pound is expected to stay at least three months, at 
the end of which time if he wishes to depart he is 
thoroughly searched. 

The great quadrangle of the compound is bordered 
by the low houses of the natives, their only openings 
being on this square. You might not care to live in 
their humble rooms, but the most fastidious could not 
object to the very modern hospital with its dispensary. 
The large swimming tank gives many of them their 




BATHING POOL 



first lesson in cleanliness. There seems to be time for 
sports between the hours of work — a Kafir band assem- 
bled in one corner makes a weird noise which to some 



KIMBERLEY 73 

cars may be music. We see a barber shaving a woolly 
head, according to the fantastic devices that the natives 
admire. In another corner a reclining group of Zulus, 
as shining and as perfect as though carved from black 
marble, are all absorbed in what appears to be a game 
of marbles. A little later camp fires are lit and the 
evening meal prepared under the open sky as if they 
were in their wilds. Visitors are such an everyday oc- 
currence that the native does not look up from his oc- 
cupation unless he has for sale some trifle made dur- 
ing his spare moments. The workmen rarely escape 
or try to escape, so secure are the fences of the en- 
circling compound. 

Why all this army of labor — all this accumulation 
of machinery? Merely that in some far away country 
the sunshine may flash forth from the jewel on my 
lady's finger. 

The life at Kimberley is not all work, for where 
there is great wealth there are always many oppor- 
tunities for pleasure. The fine driveways lead to the 
model workmen's village of Kenilworth, to the beauti- 
ful resort Alexandersf ontein, and to the classic monu- 
ment built after the model of a Greek tomb, which 
commemorates the heroism of those who fell at the 
siege of Kimberley during the recent war. 

The famous siege of Paris numbered only a few 
more days than the one of Kimberley, where for one 
hundred and twenty-four days the English held out 
against the besieging Boer army. Had it not been 



74 



SOUTH AFRICA AND THE EAST COAST 



for the diamond mines, Kimberley, with her defend- 
ing force of 4,500 men, could not have withstood so 
long the opposing army of more than 10,000 Boers. 
The unique defenses of the city were the tailing heaps 
at the mines, great piles of debris, which rise up like 
small hills and quite encircle the town and its sub- 
urbs. Besides these, earthworks were constructed and 
guns mounted upon them; one of these weapons, 




SIEGE MEMORIAL AND LONG CECIL 



"Long Cecil," made such a name for itself that it will 
long live in the memory of both Boer and Briton. 

The story of "Long Cecil" is worth remembering, 
so we will tell it to you. The defenders of Kimberley 
were not very well prepared for a siege, and it became 
necessary for them to manufacture a large gun. Mr. 
George Labram, a citizen of the United States, at 



KIMBERLEY 75 

that time Chief Engineer of the De Beers mining 
company, designed this great gun and superintended 
its construction at the mines. The whole thing was 
completed in twenty- four days, some of the time hav- 
ing first been used in making necessary tools which 
the town could not supply. When finished and 
mounted, "Long Cecil" was capable of throwing a 
shell of twenty-eight pounds a distance of five miles. 
When this gun first opened fire it caused a great stam- 
pede among the Boers, for they little suspected the 
existence of a gun of such long range. Some of the 
besiegers had brought their wives and children and 
had them comfortably encamped near their army, 
but the appearance of the new Kimberley gun sud- 
denly put an end to this happy family picnic. 

When the siege first began the people of the town 
continued in their dairy duties as if nothing out of the 
ordinary were taking place; business was carried on 
and the mines were operated, for the shot and shells 
from the Boer guns did very little damage inside the 
fortifications. Finally from one cause or another, it 
became necessary to close the mines, and then arose 
the question about the thousands of unemployed. Mr. 
Cecil Rhodes, who was living in Kimberley at the 
time and who was the amalgamator of all the diamond 
mining companies of South Africa, came to the res- 
cue and provided work for the twenty thousand idle 
workmen, in the construction of the wonderful "Siege 
Avenue," a broad street several miles long. 



76 SOUTH AFRICA AND THE EAST COAST 

Towards the end of the siege provisions were be- 
coming scarcer every day and no place seemed safe 
from the shells sent in by the Boers, who had received 
reinforcements and fresh ammunition. One after- 
noon Mr. Labram, of "Long Cecil" fame, was killed 
by the bursting of a shell fired into his room. Other 
similar fatalities induced Mr. Rhodes to offer the 
women and children shelter in the mines. Accord- 
ingly 3,000 women and children were lowered into 
the mines, where they were carefully attended for 
five days, when the siege was raised. Relief came 
none too soon ; horse flesh had been the only meat for 
more than a month, and the population of 45,000, 
white and colored, were in a state of semi-starvation. 
Many people died, especially babies and small chil- 
dren, the total number being about 1,700. There 
had at no time been any thought of surrender on 
the part of the besieged, but a glad welcome was 
given to General French's cavalry when it arrived 
on the scene of action and ended the siege, February 
15, 1900. 



FROM KIMBERLEY TO VICTORIA FALLS 

Did you ever plan to sail through the Northwest 
Passage; or to visit the sacred city of Thibet, or to 
row on the Zambesi? Such names look very well in 
a geography, but until recently they seemed places 
to read about — not to visit. 

It is fifty years since the great explorer, Living- 
stone, first saw the falls to which he gave the name of 
his queen — Victoria. The account of his journey 
through the jungles of Africa seems as wonderful, 
and as impossible for us, as a voyage of Sinbad the 
Sailor. That was the road for a hero — the Zambesi 
Express is better for us. Three days from the time 
we leave Kimberley the guard promises us we shall 
hear the roar of falling waters, though we must travel 
five hours more before we actually see the "water that 
smokes" — the native name for Victoria Falls. 

Although the guide book says that between Kim- 
berley and Victoria Falls, a distance of about a thous- 
and miles, there is very little to see, the little we do see 
is of great interest. The farther we go from civiliza- 
tion the better acquainted do we become with the na- 
tive and his way of living. We do not regret that our 
train hurries us past the scene of war — Mafeking, 
and it would not hold our attention were it not for 
the remembrance of its famous seven months' siege bjr 
the Boers. A little beyond Mafeking we enter Be- 



78 



SOUTH AFRICA AND THE EAST COAST 



chuanaland (Betch-u-an-a-land) Protectorate. A 
protectorate is a province ruled over by native chiefs 




NATIVE HUT 



under the supervision and protection of the British. 
The southern part of Bechuanaland lies in the Kala- 
hari desert and our way lies along the eastern border 



FROM KIMBERLEY TO VICTORIA FALLS 79 

of this desert. Names like Tigerkloof and Crocodile 
Pools tell us what we might have seen had we come 
before the railroad. 

Bechuanaland is divided among several great Kafir 
chiefs, the most important being Bathwen (Bat- 
wing) , Sebele and Khama. The first part of our jour- 
ney lies through Bathwen's territory. Bathwen has 
seven tribes subject to him. He has accepted Chris- 
tianity and was properly married to his wife, who is a 
woman of strong character. He lives in a good Euro- 
pean house, suitably furnished. In one room are 
seven or eight clocks, gifts of Europeans. Bathwen 
once visited Cape Town and on his return he gave a 
lecture to his young people. He told the native chil- 
dren of the wonders of the big town of the white 
people, the sea and the great ships. To his mission- 
aries he said: 

"Formerly, when you, the missionaries, used to ex- 
plain the white man's wonders to us, we did not un- 
derstand what you told us very well. Now that we 
have seen these marvels with our own eyes, during 
our visit last moon to the Cape, we can understand a 
good deal of what you used to tell us. We thought 
that we failed to comprehend because you did not 
know our language well enough. But now we, mas- 
ters of the language, find that we can not make our 
fellows and friends who have not seen them under- 
stand these wonderful sights, although we explain 
them as clearly as possible. So we know that it was 



80 SOUTH AFRICA AND THE EAST COAST 

not your fault that we did not understand your ex- 
planations long ago. These things must be seen to 
be understood." 

The membership of the native Christian Church 
under Bathwen is a thousand, with a large number of 




TYPICAL NATIVE HUTS 



native preachers whose labors are earnest and suc- 
cessful. Such heathen customs as polygamy, paying 
for wives with cattle, rain-making, and witchcraft, 
have all been swept away by Christian influence. 

The province adjoining Bathwen's is ruled over by 
a chief who is anything but a Christian — Sebele re- 



FROM KIMBERLEY TO VICTORIA FALLS 



81 




A KAFIR TOWN 



mains a heathen in spite of his regular attendance at 
church. One of his failings is his fondness for beer. 
The beer made by these natives is of two kinds — 
the corn beer, which is somewhat thick, and the beer 
made of honey, a more intoxicating drink. The beer 
is usually served in a large earthenware pot or cala- 
bash, the drinkers sitting around it, each one helping 
himself with a small ladle made also of calabash. A 
calabash is a large gourd often used as a food utensil 
by both whites and natives. Those who have formed 
the habit of intemperance are not satisfied with na- 
tive beer, and they barter away their oxen, sheep, 



82 SOUTH AFRICA AND THE EAST COAST 

goats, horses, wagons, in fact all that they have, in 
order to get the white man's brandy, which Europeans 
sell to them, in spite of prohibitive laws. 

The native African knows many fairy tales which 
he loves to relate. He enjoys nothing better than to 
have a number of hearers sitting around a fire on a 
pitch-dark night, to whom he will tell tales of folk- 
lore far into the night. Since Sebele is noted as a 
story-teller, we will join his audience for an evening's 
entertainment. An interpreter is necessary, for the 
chief does not speak English. After we have listened 
attentively to dozens of tales, we are struck with their 
great resemblance to our B'rer Rabbit stories, which 
are indeed an echo from the wilds of Central Africa. 
Here is one as it was told to us. 

THE HARE AND THE LION 

Once upon a time a hare was compelled to live with 
a lion for some time. The lion made the poor little 
hare supply him with food, not an easy task. The 
lion would riot leave the hare, for he thought her very 
wise and clever. Every day the lion said to his little 
companion: "Set food before me, for I am hungry, 
or else I shall eat you up!" The hare answered as 
meekly as possible: "All right; I will soon get you 
plenty of food. Come with me!" So away the pair 
went. The hare told the lion to keep out of sight 
while she went on ahead. Then she assembled all the 
wild creatures, saying she wished to make them a 



FROM KIMBERLEY TO VICTORIA FALLS 83 

speech. She called them together in a large enclos- 
ure formed of thorn-bushes. While they were won- 
dering what the hare was going to say, the lion sprang 
into their midst and had a great feast on antelopes 
and other game, as the hare had planned he should do. 
Day after day the hare carried out this same plan, but 
in the end became tired of her work, for the lion was 
a most ungrateful beast. Then the hare decided to 
make an end of the lion, but it took all her wisdom to 
find a way, for her companion was always at her side. 
However, one day the hare invited the lion to see her 
little house which she had built. When they got there 
the hare sprang upon the roof. The lion wished to do 
the same but he could not, so the great strong fellow 
had to ask his little weak companion to help him up. 
"All right," said the wise little animal; "put up your 
tail, that I may get hold of it to assist you." The lion 
gladly did as he was told, for he had great faith in 
whatever the hare said or did. But this time the hare 
did not help the lion — instead of pulling him up she 
tied his tail fast to the roof of the house, then ran 
away, leaving the lion hanging there till he died. So 
the hare was never more troubled by the lion. 

The chief reason for Sebele's not accepting Chris- 
tianity is because it would necessitate his giving up 
many of his favorite pastimes. Both his neighbors, 
Bathwen and Ivhama, are Christians and in their coun- 
tries most of the heathen customs have been abolished. 



84 SOUTH AFRICA AND THE EAST COAST 

We will speak of some of the customs still existing 
in Sebele's country. 

The Boy ale is a regiment of girls who must work 
together for their chief at his command. About five 
hundred girls, from fourteen to seventeen years of 
age, enter the Boyale and are divided into bands of 
twenty to fifty each, under the charge of a head 
woman, carrying a terrible rod, whose thorny branches 
are curled round at the end, making it a dreadful in- 
strument of torture. The girls wear on their heads 
fox-skin caps; around their bodies are rings of reed 
beads, — that is, reeds a few inches long, threaded like 
an immense necklace. A large number of these are 
loaded upon their bodies until the poor girls can 
scarcely get their arms over them to do anything. Be- 
sides these, a reed skirt is worn, the reeds hanging 
down to their knees. Then the girls make themselves 
more hideous by covering their faces with ocher. The 
girls are taught heathen chants and dances. If they 
do not sing and dance properly the women in charge 
strike their bare shoulders, often causing them to 
bleed. After having thus been instructed all day, the 
girls must carry firewood, and then sing and dance all 
night. Those who can afford it pay others to dance 
for them. This instruction lasts a fortnight or so, 
at the end of which time each girl has an incision 
made in her side, serving as a Boyale certificate. 
While the girls are taking this training, boys of the 
same age are undergoing an equally odious training, 



FROM KIMBERLEY TO VICTORIA FALLS 



85 



and after a fortnight or so they all join forces for one 
night, making together one hideous carnival of hea- 
thenism with their wild dances and chants. 

When a native wishes to marry, he must buy his 
wife, giving to her father in payment a certain num- 
ber of oxen, say five, seven, nine, or, if a chief, even 
fifty-one. Bogadi is the name for this sort of money. 
An odd number of oxen is always given, for even 
numbers are consid- 
ered unlucky. In 
case the wife is not 
a good one, the hus- 
band may claim the 
return of the cattle. 
On the other hand, if 
the husband is un- 
kind to his wife, she 
may feel free to re- 
turn to her home be- 
cause of the Bogadi in her father's possession. 

Love-charms are used among these people even to- 
day. If a girl's parents wish her to marry a certain 
young man, the father goes to the witchdoctor for a 
potion for this purpose. Having obtained it, he gives 
it to his daughter, who in turn gives it to her lover 
upon the first opportunity. When the young man 
has drunk the draught, the whole town knows it, and 
the wedding is talked of at once. 

The witchdoctor is a most important character in 









iffSI' ' 






Si^Ste 




:;:,-' . [m 



GROUP OF NATIVES 



86 SOUTH AFRICA AND THE EAST COAST 

savage tribes. There are witchdoctors for various of- 
fices, such as healing the sick, making rain, finding 
lost articles and so on. It is useless to try to convince 
the natives that these diviners are impostors. In cases 
of illness the doctor often says that the pain is caused 
by a lizard, frog, beetle or other creature, and by a 
sleight-of-hand trick he produces the creature which 
has caused the trouble. If the patient does not rap- 
idly recover, he is considered by his friends to be 
showing great ingratitude to his doctor. Oftentimes 
English and Dutch farmers consult witchdoctors 
when they have lost any of their cattle, and usually 
the animal is found, for the Kafir has a well devel- 
oped sense of sight, and once having seen an animal 
he can recognize it again long afterwards. The doc- 
tors often divine by means of the "Praying Mantis," 
as our children call the little insect which the Afri- 
cander children call the "Hottentot god." All who 
have ever watched a mantis have noticed how he stops 
and seems to point with his head, some imagining the 
attitude to be that of prayer, whence its American 
name. The witchdoctor makes good use of this in- 
sect when he wishes to find out in which direction the 
stolen or strayed ox has gone. 

When a person is eaten up by some wild animal, the 
witchdoctor is called in to "smell out" the sorcerer. 
Death by such means is believed to be caused by sor- 
cery — the natives believe that a sorcerer can change 
himself at will into a crocodile, lion, or other animal, 



FROM KIMBERLEY TO VICTORIA FALLS 87 

and after devouring a victim can return to his orig- 
inal form. The "smelling out" process begins with 
a wild dance performed by the diviner, at intervals 
during which he smells of various members in his 
audience. When the guilty one is found, the doctor 
springs over his head and pronounces him guilty, 
whereupon all the others immediately flee from the 
culprit as if he were the evil one. However, before 
the punishment is settled upon, the guilty one has a 
trial by ordeal, in which he may or may not be found 
guilty. There are many kinds of such trials, but we 
will speak of only one, the ordeal by boiling water. 
This ordeal is similar to that used in Europe not very 
long ago. A large beer-pot, made of native pottery, 
is filled with water and set over a fire. Some charms 
and herbs are put in, and when the water boils furi- 
ously the diviner drops in a pebble. The suspected 
one is then made to pick out the pebble with his hand. 
If he should do this without scalding his hand, he is 
innocent. It is needless to say, he never escapes. 

The cow is all important to the Kafir, for with it 
he can buy anything from a wife to a bag of corn in 
time of drought. The wealth of a tribe is reckoned 
in cattle — they have been the means of exchange 
among the South African natives, for centuries. The 
cow has come to be regarded as almost sacred. As 
soon as a child is born, a necklace with a few hairs 
from a cow's tail woven into it is put around its neck 
as a good luck charm. 



SOUTH AFRICA AND THE EAST COAST 



The women, who are regarded as inferior to the 
men, have few privileges. One of their many prohi- 
bitions is that they may not enter the cattle kraal, nor 
are they allowed to touch the milk sacs or gourds. 
Life is more endurable for the women in Khama's 
country, in fact in all countries touched by the influ- 
ence of Christianity. 

Originally the tribe ruled over by Khama had its 
capital at Shoshong. But in 1889 Khama decided to 
abandon the old site, and move .northward one hun- 
dred miles to a spot which he called Palapye (Pa-lop - 
she). The chief reason for moving was the scarcity 
of water ; then, too, Khama realized that the sanitary 

conditions of the old 
town could be im- 
proved upon in a 
new town. Accord- 
ingly Palapye was 
carefully laid out, 
ample space being 
given to each family. 
In less than three 
months 20,000 na- 




GROUP OF PICCANINNIES 



tives and one family 
of missionaries had moved all their worldly posses- 
sions and were living in their new homes. 

In less than ten years' time the railway was pushed 
up through Bechuanaland, too near the new capital to 
suit Khama. The rapid march of civilization is not 



FROM KIMBERLEY TO VICTORIA FALLS 89 

always beneficial to the natives. Khama realized this, 
for he knew that strong drinks would be imported, 
and this evil he hoped to avoid. Consequently he felt 
obliged to move his capital once again, this time to 
Mahalapye (Mak-a-lop-she) . 

Khama is perhaps the most beloved of all the chiefs, 
and he certainly has the best ruled country. His peo- 
ple are sober, well-disposed and contented. The men, 
although trained as warriors, in case fighting should 
ever be necessary, do not consider themselves mere 
fighting men and let the women do all the work, as is 
the savage custom. 

In 1895 the three great Bechuana chiefs visited 
Great Britain. They went over the sea to present a 
petition to Parliament. Since the requests were fairly 
reasonable they were nearly all granted. Their one 
supreme wish while in England was to see the "great 
white queen," as the natives called Queen Victoria. 
In expressing their fears lest they should not be al- 
lowed to see Her Majesty, they said: "Many of our 
ignorant people tell us that they do not believe that 
such a person as the great Queen exists. If we, their 
own Chiefs, return home saying we have not seen Her 
Majesty, what will they say? They will say that they 
spoke the truth when they said that there was no 
Queen in England. So we fear to return to our own 
land unless we can first see the Queen." 

While in Great Britain the three Chiefs traveled 
about and saw all the wonderful sights of the coun- 



90 SOUTH AFRICA AND THE EAST COAST 

try. Their one great wish was realized — they saw 
Queen Victoria and had an audience with her. At 
this meeting the Queen spoke these kind and gener- 
ous words to the Chiefs : "I am glad to see the Chiefs 
and to know that they love my rule. I confirm the 
settlement of their case which my Minister has made. 
I approve of the provisions excluding intoxicating 
liquors from their country, for I have strong feelings 
on the subject. The Chiefs must help my Minister 
and my High Commissioner in securing this object. 
I thank them for the presents which they have made 
to me, and I wish for their happiness, and that of 
their people." 

The presents referred to were beautiful karosses, 
that is, sleeveless jackets (worn by South African 
natives), made of beautiful skins of leopards and 
silver jackals. As parting gifts, Queen Victoria 
gave each Chief a beautifully bound New Testament 
in his native Sechwana language, her own portrait, 
and an Indian shawl, the last being for their wives. 

In Bechuanaland the chief is no longer an absolute 
prince ; he must submit to the restraints imposed upon 
him by the government, or by the dictates of a con- 
science awakened by the teachings of Christianity. 

When we cross the border line into Rhodesia we 
find the scattered remnants of a tribe too fierce to 
recognize restraint. The Matabele, ruled over by the 
cruel Lobengula, refused to keep faith with the 
whites, and were guilty of every kind of barbarity 



FROM KIMBERLEY TO VICTORIA FALLS 91 

toward the allies of the British, the Mashonas. The 
whites were forced to realize that no life was safe in 
the territory of the Matabele, and the war was waged 
which terminated in 1894 in the death of Lobengula, 
the submission of his tribe, and the annexation of 
750,000 square miles to British territory- — an area sur- 
passing that of France, Germany, Austria and Italy. 
At this time Rhodesia took a new name and a new 
lease of life. Rhodesia is ruled by a chartered com- 
pany who have an undertaking similar to that of the 
old East India Company, with all its responsibilities 
but without its great profits. 

Bulawayo, formerly the point from which the Mat- 
abele started on their raids, is now the capital of 
Rhodesia. It is one of the newest of South Africa's 
many new towns. The fine streets and driveways, 
the handsome office buildings, together with the small 
and scattered population, remind one of a "boom" 
town in the western states. One who believes in the 
country will probably tell you that it is built with 
room to grow, and that its founder planned for the 
great future which its gold mines insure. 

Rickshaws met us at the station, less picturesque 
than we find them elsewhere. The boys do not seem 
to take as much pride in their costumes and do not 
wear the gay tunic and the head-dress of horns which 
we will see later in Johannesburg. A blinding dust 
storm greets us and the only shade is from the lonely 
blue gums which throw uncertain shadows as they 



92 SOUTH AFRICA AND THE EAST COAST 

shudder before the hot breath of the winds. We pass 
through the Malay and Kafir districts to the center 
of the town, where the handsome hotels and govern- 
ment buildings would do credit to a town of ten times 
the population of Bulawayo, which claims only 7,000 
people. Where the four great crossroads meet is a statue 
of Rhodes — the maker of Rhodesia in so far as one 
man can develop a country and establish faith in it. 

A drive of a few miles brings us to the old indaba 
tree under which Lobengula formerly dispensed his 
so-called justice. Near the tree is the picturesque 
Government House. Everywhere we see the old giv- 
ing place to the new. In the street we pass the trap 
of the smart English tourist, then walking with 
swinging gait the half-clad native. When we go far- 
ther to the north or when we get into territory where 
the Dutch have ruled, the native does not seem to ques- 
tion taking a subordinate place and does not expect 
to walk on the sidewalk. 

We find we must linger two days at Bulawayo in 
order to see" two famous monuments — one modern, 
the other dating from Old Testament times. 

A short train journey takes us to the Matopo hills. 
A marble slab on a solitary grave reads, "Here lies 
the body of John Cecil Rhodes." This was where he 
wished to be buried — and the pilgrim to his grave sees 
from the hills what he called "The World's View." 
It is a view that reminds one of his life in its loneliness 
and might, and its simplicity and greatness. 



FROM KIMBERLEY TO VICTORIA FALLS 



93 



Not far from the grave is the Shangani monument 
erected to the memory of Major Wilson and his 
party. An American scout, Mr. Burnham, survived 
to tell the story 
which Rider 
Haggard has 
thrillingly re- 
told. The scout 
left the little 
party to get re- 
inforcements, 
which arrived 
too late. Every 
school boy in 
Africa learns in 
his reader about 
"Major Wil- 
son's last 
stand." The 
Matabele sur- 
rounded the 
small band of 
twenty — to 
take flight 

would mean to leave their wounded comrades. They 
held out as long as the ammunition lasted and died 
in a hand to hand conflict in an unequal fight against 
thousands. On the four great bronze tablets that com- 
memorate the deed, the likenesses of the heroes have 




UNVEILING OF RHODES STATUE — IQ05 



94 



SOUTH AFRICA AND THE EAST COAST 



been strikingly portrayed. These monuments have 
been made as strong and enduring as man can devise, 
but our next day at the Khami ruins reminds us that 
nothing is proof against time. 

A drive of twelve miles from Bulawayo takes us to 
Khami. Eleven great ruins and many smaller ones 
give evidence of a buried city. Farther into the heart 




GUARD OF HONOR AT RHODES GRAVE 



of Rhodesia are the Zimbabwe ruins — larger and 
more imposing than Khami but very similar in design, 
and made intricate with herring bone and lattice 
stones. Both ruins are supposed to belong to the 



FROM KIMBERLEY TO VICTORIA FALLS 95 

same period — a period long before Stonehenge or the 
Coliseum. It is supposed that the Phenicians built 
their temples and smelted their gold here, and that 
the mines of Rhodesia were a source of wealth to the 
Queen of Sheba. Very little excavating has been 
done about the ruins, but gold ornaments and glass 
trinkets have been found. The surrounding country 
shows the presence of gold bearing reefs, and the 
wealth from these mines is thought to be the gold of 
Ophir, which the ships of Solomon and Hiram, King 
of Tyre, and others brought to Jerusalem about 1000 
B. C. 

The Baobab tree testifies to the age of the Rho- 
desian ruins. This tree, called by the natives the sour 
gourd or Cream of Tartar tree, is like an immense 
champagne bottle. The trunk is from twenty to 
thirty feet in diameter and it is often known to attain 
the age of a thousand years. The fruit is a brown 
gourd, suspended from a long cord-like stem some- 
times two feet in length. Inside is a white powder, 
with the taste and properties of cream of tartar. 
The Baobab trees flourishing among the Rhodesian 
ruins mean that a city has been deserted, the fine 
ground has sifted in deep enough to make a soil and 
after that the Baobab has grown unmolested for a 
thousand years. At the Bulawayo museum we are 
interested in a collection of relics from this old, old 
civilization. 

The towns are fewer and fewer as we go north, but 



96 



SOUTH AFRICA AND THE EAST COAST 




BAOBAB TREE 



each little station has its own features of interest if 
we are willing to be interested. During a stop for 
dinner a friendly tame ostrich parades the station, 

thrusting his head in 
at the open windows 
and eating the food 
we offer him. Up 
and down he saunt- 
ers, as though he, too. 
were a tourist. 

At every stopping 
place the natives 
swarm around the 
car, eagerly offering 
for sale little wooden animals, crude in their carving 
but sometimes very lifelike. The bottles of milk they 
recommend are no temptation, for we fear the wares 
may be no cleaner than the seller. When we lean 
out of the window we are greeted by a swarm of beg- 
gars, hungry and half-clothed, but so numerous that 
it seems hopeless to try to feed them. Sometimes a 
mother with a baby on her back, or a roguish begging 
little boy gets the last biscuit from our tea box. 

At Wankie there is a new town that has grown up 
around the recently discovered coal mines. Back from 
the village of the white men we see the kraals of the 
natives, though usually the larger settlements are far 
from the stations. 

The journey of a day and a night from Bulawayo 



FROM KIMBEKLEY TO VICTORIA FALLS 97 

brings us to what was in 1905 the terminus of the 
Cape to Cairo railroad — the bridge across the narrow 
chasm of the Zambesi. It was Cecil Rhodes who pro- 
jected the railroad which is to connect the Mediter- 
ranean with the Cape. Of the 5,700 miles, 1,631 have 
been finished from the southern end and 1,400 follow 
the Nile to Khartum, so more than half the distance 
has been bridged. 

We know that we are nearing the Falls, and every 
one is at the windows or on the car platforms to listen 
for the sound of falling waters which we are told can 
be heard in the stillness at a distance of twenty miles. 
Finally the guard calls, "Victoria Falls Station," and 
we rejoice that we have arrived in time to have our 
first glimpse of the river before dusk. 

A short walk brings us to the rambling hotel which 
is soon to give place to a more pretentious one. On 
the broad veranda tea is served. The Falls are not in 
view from the hotel, but we see a great promontory 
with the river twisting like a serpent around its base 
and high across the canyon the suspended bridge is 
like a fairy arch. 

The two most wonderful feats of engineering in 
the world were completed on the same day in April, 
1905, — the Simplon tunnel, and the highest bridge in 
the world, spanning the Zambesi. It took the great- 
est skill in engineering to fling this steel network 
across the deep gorge of the river. At first a cord was 
shot across by means of a rocket — this drew a thicker 



98 SOUTH AFRICA AND THE EAST COAST 

cord, then a rope, then a steel cable. On this was sus- 
pended a swinging cage we sometimes call the "Fly- 
ing Dutchman," which bore across the workmen and 
their tools, and before the bridge was finished a thou- 
sand tons of steel. A great derrick swinging far 
across the river helped with the work. An electric 
plant was erected near the Falls to help in the con- 
struction. The bridge is 420 feet high and 650 feet 
long. The building continued from either side until 
the last bolt was riveted in April ; the bridge was not 
formally opened for traffic until September 12, 1905, 
when the British Association for the Advancement of 
Science visited Victoria Falls during their tour of 
South Africa. President Darwin announced that the 
bridge was opened for the commerce of the world and 
the car passed over bearing the Union Jack. 

After tea on the hotel veranda we wander down to 
the bridge to get the first view of the falling water. 
The bridge is no longer a cobweb arch at nearer view, 
but a network of strong steel bars. The bridge does 
not afford the best view of the Falls, but two great 
cascades can be seen — feathery clouds of spray 
against a gray wall of stone, half covered with soft 
green velvety moss. 

The Zambesi above the Falls is two miles wide, and 
the precipice over which it falls over a mile in width, 
yet the narrow stream that flows beneath the bridge is 
only a few hundred feet in width. We look down 
upon its surface, quiet and peaceful, and it seems like 



FROM KIMBERLEY TO VICTORIA FALLS 99 

a little meadow brook, yet man has not been able to 
fathom its depth. Geologists have said that the water 
must find an exit through an underground passage, 
but it is not impossible that the very deep narrow 
channel has confined the waters of this great river. 
The old theory of earthquakes and the resulting fis- 
sures causing the formation at the Falls is no longer 
accepted. 

The Victoria Falls have had the same history as 
Niagara and are the result of erosion. Speaking in 
round numbers, Victoria Falls are twice the width and 
twice the height of Niagara Falls, and four times the 
volume of water passes over them as over Niagara. 

We leave the bridge and follow the river bank, and 
come upon another great sheet of falling water. 
Every step presents a new view, and in our eagerness 
to see it all we find we are in the midst of a rain storm. 
Water is dripping everywhere in the palm grove into 
which we have made our way. This, then, is the "Rain 
Forest," where showers are never ceasing. We go 
back to the hotel to prepare ourselves to penetrate its 
watery depths. 

Fortune favors us, for we have timed our journey 
for the full moon, and we shall see the lunar rainbow. 
We venture into the Rain Forest from the other side 
and come upon a foaming mass of water, "The 
Devil's Cataract." Naming the greater falls from 
west to east, beyond the Devil's Cataract is the Main 
Fall, then the Rainbow Fall, and the Eastern Cat- 



100 



SOUTH AFRICA AND THE EAST COAST 



aract. The mile of falling water includes several 
distinct larger cataracts owing to the islands which 
break the Falls at the verge . We take the path 
through the Rain Forest with the soft shower. Every 
opening in the trees causes us to exclaim in wonder. 
Before us are the great sheets of the Main Falls — a 




VICTORIA FALLS — ZAMBESI — ONE MILE WIDE, FOUR HUNDRED FEET OF FALL 



gleaming mass of foam, white and billowy in the 
moonlight. We force our way through the jungle, 
cling to the monkey ropes, and see over the edge an 
arch of opal — the lunar rainbow. 

It would be a perilous feat to attempt to row down 



FROM KIMBERLEY TO VICTORIA FALLS 



101 



the Niagara River and try to look over the precipice 
at the falling water, but this is possible on the Zam- 
besi. Our second day at the Falls we cross the bridge, 
and the road brings us to a point on the river above 
the cataract where the boats of the natives are 
moored. The canoes glide noiselessly to the island, 
the black oarsmen standing like glistening statues 
in the prow. The large 
island on the edge of 
the Falls has been 
given the discoverer's 
name. Livingstone 
discovered the Falls 
from above. The na- 
tive boatmen rowed 
him down the river to- 
ward the "water that 
smokes" to an island on 
the very verge — a ven- 
ture that the swift current of Niagara makes impos- 
sible. In the center of Livingstone Island is a tree 
which the authorities have attempted to preserve, 
because on it the initials of the great explorer are 
still faintly discernible. 

At the very verge of the Island we lie on the jut- 
ting rocks and watch the river make its mad leap 
into the frenzied whirlpools below — a narrow gash, 
a hundred yards across and the length of the Falls, 
separates Livingstone Island from the Rain Forest. 




NATIVES ON THE ZAMBESI 



102 



SOUTH AFRICA AND THE EAST COAST 



Within this the waters eddy and foam — the spot 
where the struggle is fiercest has been named the 
"Boiling Pot." We are in the midst of sun-illum- 
ined spray — below us the most glorious rainbows 
oscillate alone or in dancing pairs. 

Washed by the spray a new Gladiolus has been 
found which was appropriately named "Maid of the 
Mist." As an adaptation to its environment, its up- 
per petal forms a pent-house to protect the stamens 
and pistil from the ceaseless downpour. To culti- 




BAROTSE CANOE BOYS DRILLING 



vate it successfully in conservatories, constant spray- 
ing is necessary. 

We plan a quiet row on the Zambesi for our last 
day at the Falls. With our lunch we make an early 



FROM KIMBERLEY TO VICTORIA FALLS 103 

start and drive to the landing place, where a little 
gasoline launch awaits us. All morning we make our 
way up stream on the broad still waters of the river. 
Tall cocoanut trees, interlaced "Monkey Ropes" (Li- 
anes) and palms of every description border the river. 
Occasionally we see through the trees the thatched 
roofs of Kafir huts, some high on poles like the nests 
of great birds. We watch for hippopotami or croco- 
diles in vain — traffic on the river has made the ani- 
mals wary. The river is dotted with islands, and our 
boatman points out two of the larger ones as Princess 
Christian and Princess Victoria, named for the first 
two members of the royal family who visited the 
river. 

At the village of Livingstone our boat makes a 
stop and we go ashore. Under the scattered trees 
on the sun-baked plain, the half -clad natives are 
dreaming away the hot morning, while a musically 
inclined companion plays a monotonous chant on an 
instrument made from a tortoise shell with stretched 
strings ; an old tin imbedded in the earth is the sound- 
ing board. Some boys bent on profit follow us with 
"lucky beans" and "mahogany" beans for sale. The 
lucky bean is a small red seed tipped with black — hard 
enough to be set in gold and serve for years as a 
jewel. The "mahogany" bean is larger — black en- 
livened by a scarlet arillus. 

Everywhere Livingstone has left a name and a 
memory. The Barotsi, who, with their chief, Le» 



104 SOUTH AFRICA AND THE EAST COAST 

wanika, have for years held sway in this region, were 
prepared to welcome the next missionaries, for they 
argued since they were white they must be good like 
Livingstone; and, indeed, they found confirma- 




ZAMBESI PETS 



tion for their trust in the life and work of the noble 
French missionary, M. Colliard, who for so many 
years labored in their midst. 

Though a great explorer, Livingstone was above 
all a missionary. The tablet over his grave in the 
floor of Westminster Abbey quotes his life prayer 
that all men should unite to do away with the curse 



FROM KIMBERLEY TO VICTORIA FALLS 



105 



of slavery. His wife, who shared his toil, rests in a 
lonely grave not far from the Zambesi. 

At Livingstone is King Lewanika's store. He is a 
fairly enlightened chief who prides himself on his 
visit to England and his European clothes. Fine 
karosses and handsome baskets tempt us. The bas- 
kets are not unlike those of the North American In- 
dians and are water tight. They are used for por- 
ridge bowls and for drinking cups. An attempt by 
a buyer to reduce the quoted price met with the dig- 
nified response, "This is the King's store." The na- 
tive does not appear anxious to make a sale, and he 
would not defraud his chief, though two hundred 
miles away at his capital in the interior. 

All about us are the hills of a Lilliputian village 
— the work of the white ant. Scientists have sug- 
gested that this insect 
takes the place of the 
earthworm in pulver- 
izing the soil. It is 
certain that it pulver- 
izes many things that 
it should not. In the 
morning your boots 
may be without soles, 
or your wooden trunk 

may be scattered about your room in the form 
of powder. A fallen log becomes in a few days a 
shell of bark. 




KING LEWANIKA'S CURIO STORE 



106 SOUTH AFRICA AND THE EAST COAST 

We find a glimpse of the larger animals of the 
river is not altogether to be desired. While we are 
picnicking on the bank we hear cries from the river 
and see in the distance an overturned canoe being 
borne down the stream, and a native clinging to it for 




SCHOOL OF HIPPOS 



support and shouting for help. Our launch goes to 
the rescue, and we are not sorry that the hippo has 
chosen another boat than ours for a plaything. 

The red sunset behind the cocoanut palms as we 
drift down the stream is one of the most beautiful 
pictures of our African pilgrimage. 



VICTORIA FALLS TO THE TRANSVAAL 

The year 1835 saw the Great Trek (migration) of 
the Boers from Cape Colony. They pushed north- 
ward for several reasons, chiefly because of discon- 
tent under British rule. It was at this time that slav- 
ery was abolished in all British possessions ; although 
a fairly good price was paid to the slave-owners, still 
many of the Dutch farmers resented the interference 
with what seemed to them their legal rights. The 
British bought the slaves for about $250,000, and 
thirty years later the United States settled the ques- 
tion of slavery under far harder conditions. About 
fifty Boer families under a leader packed their 
worldly possessions into great ox-wagons, and started 
out for unexplored regions. The late President Kru- 
ger was one of the children who went on this expedi- 
tion with his parents. These pioneers suffered un- 
told hardships and many were murdered by the fierce 
natives into whose country they went. Some finally 
reached the present site of Johannesburg, while others 
pushed on to the east, settling in what is now the 
province of Natal. Those early settlers near Johan- 
nesburg founded the beginning of the South African 
Republic, which later had its capital at Pretoria, 
named after its president, Mr. Pretorius. In the re- 
cent war, this Transvaal Republic lost its power and 
fell into the hands of the British. 



108 



SOUTH AFRICA AND THE EAST COAST 



Leaving now the beautiful Victoria Falls behind 
us, we shall retrace our steps to Maf eking, about 800 
miles south of the Zambesi. From here we will "trek" 
across country to Johannesburg, nearly 200 miles. 




TREK WAGON 



In "trekking" one travels mostly at night, so little is 
seen of the country if one cares to sleep. Our wagon 
is a typical trek-wagon, like that seen in the picture. 
We have fourteen oxen, a driver and a voor-louper 
(leader). Two kegs of water hang beneath the 
wagon, a sail top (tent) protects us from the sun, and 
a mattress on the bottom serves as a bed. Our food 



VICTORIA FALLS TO THE TRANSVAAL 109 

and cooking utensils are stored away in boxes. We 
start off at sundown, and travel leisurely till mid- 
night, when we stop for an hour's rest. Then on we 
go till six in the morning. We outspan the oxen near 
a small stream, where there are a few trees offering us 
welcome shade, and breakfast preparations are begun. 
The Kafir boy builds the fire, and boils the water, and 
very soon we have a good breakfast. The whole day 
is spent at this place, for it is not comfortable to 
travel for hours along a sunny road. By sundown, 
oxen and travelers are both sufficiently rested to con- 
tinue the trekking — thus we go on for four or five 
days. Our trekking recalls the five and seven miles 
long processions of refugees during the war. We 
sleep very comfortably at night, for the road is good, 
having been much used in the past twenty-five years. 
On our journey from Maf eking we pass several small 
villages, otherwise there is little to see. 

JOHANNESBURG 

In the distance we see Johannesburg ; we marvel at 
this wondrous city which has sprung into existence as 
by magic, for in less than twenty years the popula- 
tion has increased to 84,000. What caused this rapid 
and sudden growth, in a town which began with only 
3,000 people in 1887? Gold was discovered on the 
site of the present city, and the news of it caused peo- 
ple to flock there from all corners of the world. As 
we walk along the streets, we are struck with a 



110 



SOUTH AFRICA AND THE EAST COAST 



strange fact, that is, the absence in general of women 
and elderly men. This is readily accounted for when 
we consider the difficulties in the way of traveling, for 
the railway reached Johannesburg only a few years 
ago. The young men of the world, fired with the 
gold fever, left their homes and rushed to the Trans- 




ELOFF STREET, JOHANNESBURG 

vaal. Many made their fortunes and returned with 
them to their native homes. On the other hand, a 
large number of people have remained in the chy, 
where they have built beautiful residences. 

Johannesburg is pre-eminently a city of wealth, 
which we realize more and more as we walk leisurely 



VICTORIA FALLS TO THE TRANSVAAL 



111 



along the streets. The shop windows are as attractive 
as those of Paris. We stop to admire the jewelers' 
displays of beautiful and expensive wares. Every- 
where are signs of great wealth, in the handsome 
shops, in the well-dressed people on the street — indeed 
it is said that more money is made and lost in one day 
in Johannesburg than in any other city in the world. 
There is much gambling on the Stock Exchange, to 
say nothing of the money won and lost in social 
games. Johannesburg boasts of several theatres and 
many club houses, and 
society life in that city 
is the most fashion- 
able in all South Af- 
rica. Ladies dressed 
in the latest Parisian 
gowns drive by in ele- 
gant carriages drawn 
by most beautiful 
horses, and motor cars 

without number race past with great speed. To 
us the rickshaws (short for "jinrickshas") are the 
oddest kind of conveyance. A light two-wheeled cart 
drawn by a colored boy, clad in unique attire, a 
pair of horns on his head making him look like a 
satyr. The small horse-car line looks out of place in 
this flourishing modern city, and we are glad to know 
that an electric tram system is already nearing com- 
pletion. The massive stone buildings eight and ten 




RICKSHAW BOYS 



112 SOUTH AFRICA AND THE EAST COAST 

stories high are strikingly American in architecture. 
This is not strange, for there is a large colony of 
Americans in the city; many of the highest positions 
in the mines, not only in Johannesburg, but 
throughout South Africa, are held by Americans. 
Four daily papers and several weeklies supply local 
and foreign news to the people. Wages are high, a 
baker can earn $25 a week, while plumbers and stone- 
masons receive $35. Everything is correspondingly 
expensive, the least fare on the tram being a sixpence 
(twelve cents) . House rents are higher in proportion 
than in New York, for modern conveniences are not 
found in every house. Fresh eggs (by the way many 
eggs are imported from Ireland) sell usually from 75 
cents to $1.00 a dozen. 

Johannesburg has an elevation of 5,655 feet, that 
is more than a mile above sea-level; this gives a very 
bracing atmosphere and a delightful climate. In one 
year recently the total fall of rain was thirty inches, 
all of which fell in 187 hours; the rain usually comes 
down in heavy thunder-showers which last but a short 
time. In the warmest weather the wealthiest people 
of this city take their families to the seashore, travel- 
ing from 300 to 400 miles to the nearest seaport. 

We spend several days driving about the many 
pretty suburbs, where the better class of people have 
built very nice residences. Trees have been planted 
along many streets, but as yet they afford little shade. 
An American friend offers to take us for a day's out- 



VICTORIA FALLS TO THE TRANSVAAL 113 

ing to Pretoria, the Transvaal capital, twenty-five 
miles away. 

PRETORIA 

The distance is soon covered, for we are spinning 
along in a fine motor-car, going as fast as we please. 
If there are any laws against scorching no one heeds 
them, and everybody drives a motor-car or rides a 




PREMIER DIAMOND MINE HAULAGE 



bicycle at high speed. Pretoria is a restful city of 
rose-embowered homes, for 35,000 people. The first 
railway train entered this city in 1895, although the 
place was then about fifty years old. The chief indus- 
try here is diamond mining, but having seen the work- 



114 



SOUTH AFRICA AND THE EAST COAST 



ings of such mines in Kimberley, we shall not take 
time to visit these. The diamond interest in the 
Transvaal stands next in importance to the gold, and 
the Premier Diamond Mine is one of the wonders of 




THE CULLINAN DIAMOND — TWO-THIRDS SIZE 



modern discovery. The gold mines are centered at 
Johannesburg, while diamonds are mined in Pretoria. 
The site of the famous Premier Mine, twenty miles 
from Pretoria, was in 1902 an untilled field, but now 
after six years it is a thriving center of industry. 
The present manager of this mine obtained possession 
of the land in an interesting manner. A farm, lying 
near land which was believed to be diamondiferous, 
was offered for sale for the preposterous price of 
$280,000. Different people asked the farmer if they 



VICTORIA FALLS TO THE TRANSVAAL 115 

might inspect the land before buying to see what were 
the prospects of diamond soil being found there. But 
to all entreaties the farmer replied: "No; take it or 
leave it, and the price must be paid in hard cash." 
Finally Mr. Cullinan determined to buy that farm on 
speculation; he interested a number of friends in the 
scheme and among them they raised $400,000, more 
than enough to buy the farm. Within three years 
after this investment the original $400,000 had been 
more than doubled and even trebled. The value of 
the average diamond is about $14.00 per carat. As 
at the Kimberley mines, the finder of a diamond in 
the rough receives a good reward. The world famous 
diamond called the "Cullinan" diamond was found 
by a workman, who dug the stone out of the rock 
with a penknife. He received as his reward $10,000, 
the value of the diamond being about $2,500,000. 



THE ANGLO-BOER WAR 

The chief interest that centers around Johannes- 
burg and Pretoria, apart from the mining industry, 
is connected with the recent Anglo-Boer War. The 
conflict originated in the Transvaal, formerly called 
the South African Republic, of which Paul Kruger 
was president. This war has been the subject of 
many volumes of history, but the main facts con- 
cerning it may be briefly summarized: 

Previous to the year 1900 there were many types 
of government south of the Zambesi. At that time 
there were two republics, the South African Republic 
and the Orange Free State, and two British colonies, 
Natal and Cape Colony, besides a chartered company 
possession, Rhodesia, the native protectorates, and a 
German province. 

Cape Colony, the most southern province in 
Africa, had become British territory in 1806, after 
having ha'd an unprogressive career under the Dutch 
East India Company for about a hundred and fifty 
years. The dissatisfied element departed from the 
colony in 1836, the year of the Great Trek, leaving a 
population largely British, or at least in sympathy 
with British rule. Thus Cape Town became the 
natural center for the landing and dispersing of 
British troops during the war. When in the course of 
the fighting the Boers invaded the northern part of 



THE ANGLO-BOER WAR 117 

Cape Colony, it can not be said that they received 
enthusiastic support. 

In 1842 Natal, at least the English section of 
it, having suffered continually from native incur- 
sions, was not loth to avail itself of the protection 
of the British troops. The short-lived Dutch repub- 
lic established here by one contingent of the 
Trekkers in 1836, did not surrender without a strug- 
gle. Natalia, the name the Dutch republic had 
borne for its short career, became the English prov- 
ince of Natal. A small band of those who refused 
to acknowledge British sway migrated northward 
again to join their Dutch friends in the Transvaal. 
That Natal needs the backing of a government strong 
enough to make the natives respect it is evident from 
the uprising among the Zulus which occurred about 
two years ago. A small poll tax was imposed 
upon the natives. They resented being asked to 
contribute to government support and united against 
the whites, and in April 1906, it became necessary 
to call out the troops for the protection of the white 
population. Since south of the Zambesi the blacks 
outnumber the whites in the ratio of about twenty to 
one, it is well that they do not realize their numbers 
nor their power. 

This Kafir war was less serious in its results than 
many which preceded it. But it caused for a time 
strained relations between the Imperial Government 
and Natal. The circumstances were these: Some 



118 SOUTH AFRICA AND THE EAST COAST 

officers in the service of the government were killed 
by the rebellious Zulus; the guilty ones were caught 
and condemned to death. The Parliament of Eng- 
land interfered and the colonial ministry of Natal 
showed its displeasure by resigning, whereupon the 
Imperial Government withdrew its protest, satisfied 
on becoming thoroughly acquainted with the facts 
of the case that the Natal authorities had acted justly. 
The execution of the natives which followed seemed 
to have a wholesome effect upon the chiefs still in 
rebellion. All of which proves that beyond a certain 
point the central authorities may not interfere with 
the colonies, and that the people who have lived a long 
time in the country understand the native question far 
better than those who have built up theories from 
pure speculation without any practical knowledge of 
native affairs. 

The Orange River Colony also was settled by a 
party who had helped to make up the numbers that 
formed the Great Trek. Continual native disturb- 
ances gave the British an excuse for taking posses- 
sion of that territory. In 1854 an expert on African 
affairs, Sir George Cathcart, suggested that the 
province be given up — it being in his opinion a land 
fit for springboks only. The Boers established here a 
thriving republic. When war became imminent be- 
tween the South African Republic and the British, 
the Orange Free State, as the Boers named their 
little republic, was urged to remain neutral, the Brit- 



THE ANGLO-BOER WAR 119 

ish promising that if it complied with this request 
its independence should be secure. The Orange Free 
State, however, preferred to cast its lot with that of 
its sister republic. 

This sister, the South African Republic, also was 
a trek settlement. It had been proclaimed British 
territory in 1877, but the Boers had protested in word 
and action. They took up arms, and after the battle 
of Majuba Hill the South African Republic was 
recognized, the ministry of Gladstone upholding in 
England the cause of the Boers. The republic did 
not live to come of age. Born in 1881, it ceased to 
exist in 1900. 

Had it not been for the discovery of gold in the 
South African Republic its history might have been 
very different. In 1890 the whole aspect of affairs 
was changed by the finding of gold within the boun- 
daries of the country. From all over the world came 
fortune-hunters. After the first excitement had died 
out, they found that political conditions existed here 
which seemed unjust. All Uitlanders, as those who 
were not Dutch were called, were heavily taxed, had 
no schools, and practically were denied the franchise. 
From past experience the Boers had cause to be 
apprehensive lest the government should pass out of 
their control. A union was formed among those who 
had no vote, to protest against political conditions and 
to try to better them. The action of Dr. Jameson 
at this time made peaceable settlement impossible. 



120 SOUTH AFRICA AND THE EAST COAST 

With five hundred mounted men he crossed the bor- 
der land from Rhodesia to take government affairs 
out of the hands of the Dutch by force. Kruger, 
who for many years had held the title of President 
of the South African Republic, was ready for him. 
Jameson and his company were obliged to surrender 
to Kruger and his burghers. Several of the ring- 
leaders in Johannesburg, and Jameson himself, suf- 
fered imprisonment and fine. 

The republic now put itself in a position to resist 
all further interference. Ammunition was imported, 
every burgher possessed himself of a rifle, and forts 
were erected. On October 9, 1899, the Dutch sent 
this ultimatum to the British: 

The British troops stationed on the border land 
of the republic were to be ..instantly withdrawn, and 
the reinforcements then coming by sea from Eng- 
land were not to be landed in Africa. Failure to 
accede to these demands within forty-eight hours 
would be considered equivalent to a declaration of 
war. The British government said it regretted that 
such demands had been made, but that it had no 
further communication to offer, and the war began. 

The Boers were in readiness. Within three days 
fifty thousand men were in the field, mounted and 
armed. It soon became evident that the ambition 
of the Dutch extended to all the land south of the 
Zambesi. Rhodesia was to be secured by capturing 
Maf eking, the strategic point. An invasion of Natal 



THE ANGLO-BOER WAR 121 

was planned, and Kimberley was besieged. The 
siege of Kimberley lasted one hundred and twenty- 
four days, and was relieved by General French. Gen- 
eral Joubert of the Dutch forces invaded Natal, and 
for one hundred and sixteen days Sir George White 
was hemmed in at Ladysmith. General Buller came 
to his rescue, February 28, 1900, and the siege col- 
lapsed. Shortly afterward General Joubert, one of 
the bravest and most respected of the Boer com- 
manders, died. Mafeking held out under Colonel 
Baden-Powell for two hundred and fifteen days, one 
of the longest sieges in history. After its relief the 
army of the Boer general, Cronje, surrendered at the 
Modder River. This victory for the British was fol- 
lowed by the entrance into Bloemfontein (the capital 
of the Orange Free State) of Lord Roberts, which 
event marks the loss of this republic to the Dutch. 
This state had had a short but interesting history of 
less than fifty years. 

It was seen that the British had greatly underesti- 
mated the strength of the Boers; during the first 
months of the war nearly all the engagements had 
resulted in favor of the Dutch. To relieve the sieges 
of Mafeking, Kimberley and Ladysmith, contingents 
were poured in from New Zealand, Canada, and 
Australia. The most able and experienced of Brit- 
ish generals, Lord Roberts and General Kitchener, 
took charge of the forces in South Africa. 

After the relief of the besieged cities the war was 



122 SOUTH AFRICA AND THE EAST COAST 

practically decided, but guerilla Avarfare continued 
until May, 1902. General De Wet became com- 
mander-in-chief of the Boer forces and was unwilling 
to give up the struggle. At last it became evident 
even to him that the fight was a useless one. The 
terms of peace that closed the war are interesting. 

For one thing, the farms were to be restocked, 
this provision — the conqueror indemnifying the con- 
quered — being unusual in the history of warfare. 
Another clause in the peace articles which somewhat 
reconciled the Boers to new conditions was that the 
Dutch language should be preserved by being taught 
in the schools. This concession has not proved a 
source of harmony, and South Africa is perhaps the 
only country in the world where a knowledge of two 
languages, and one of them a dialect, is necessary, 
if a man is to conduct successfully any business. 
That nothing tends to foster the spirt of racial divi- 
sion more than a dual language South Africa has 
proved. 

A feature of the war about which much has been 
written was the concentration camp. Here the 
women and children were collected from the devas- 
tated farms and some attempt was made to continue 
the schooling of the children. Teachers came from 
Canada and from all parts of the British Empire to 
teach in these concentration schools. 

The Boer prisoners who were captured by the 
British during the war were sent to the island of 



THE ANGLO-BOER WAR 123 

St. Helena or to Ceylon. The year of exile on these 
islands was one full of experience for the young 
Boers. During this period of captivity many of 
the young men decided to give their lives to mission 
work among the natives, as some reparation for the 
wrongs the blacks had suffered at their hands. "We 
took the land from the natives," they said, "and now 
ours is taken from us that we may realize the evil 
thing we did in the past." 

So strong is the prejudice among some of the 
Dutch in South Africa against British rule that there 
was a new trek at the close of the war. One company 
migrated to German East Africa; another sought 
homes in the Argentine Republic; and a third went 
to the northwestern corner of the United States. 

As has been said, in 1900 there were many types 
of government south of the Zambesi River ; now the 
country is all British territory, save German West 
Africa. The Orange Free State has become the 
Orange River Colony, the South African Republic 
has become the Transvaal. In 1906 all disabilities 
were removed and these two new colonies were 
granted self-government. 

Even after long residence in South Africa it is 
hard for an American to decide the right and the 
wrong of this war. Controversy concerning it finally 
resolves itself into the question as to whether freedom 
has any value if not conducive to the best in civiliza- 
tion and in progress. 



AT THE SEASHORE 

For the first years in South Africa newcomers 
try to keep up the Christmas traditions of the 
mother country by preparing the steamed plum 
pudding and eating it bravely in spite of the heat, 




KALK BAY 



for you will remember that in the southern hemi- 
sphere the seasons are reversed, and that summer 
here is in December and winter in July. Although 
the candles have a way of melting before the day is 
done, there is an attempt to decorate the Christmas 



AT THE SEASHORE 1 25 

tree. In time the people learn to accommodate their 
celebration to the weather, and a picnic at the beach 
is not a bad substitute for the Yule log festivities. 

The seaside resorts are crowded on the principal 
holidays — Christmas, Boxing Day (the day after 
Christmas, when the servants expect freedom and a 
present or Christmas box), New Year's, and the sev- 
eral bank holidays. The cheap excursions planned by 
the government railways make it possible for the 
poorer people to have an occasional glimpse of the 
sea. If you are well-to-do, you go to the hotels or 
have your own summer cottage, but there is no reason 
for staying at home if you can not have these lux- 
uries. The Africander knows how to have a happy 
out-of-door summer with a trek wagon and a tent. 

After Christmas all the talk is about the vacation 
jaunt. Our friends in Johannesburg are going to 
take a somewhat extended trip to a seashore resort 
near Cape Town. This means a long railroad jour- 
ney of about three days and three nights, but when 
money has not to be considered, such a journey for a 
few weeks of pleasure is only a means to an end. 

Arriving, then, at Cape Town, we take a suburban 
train carrying us out through the pretty little towns 
lying on the Atlantic side of the Cape of Good Hope. 
From the train we see beautiful green lanes, shaded 
by oak, fir, poplar, and eucalyptus trees, and now 
and then we catch glimpses of shaggy wood and 
mountain precipices high above the towns of Ronde- 



126 SOUTH AFRICA AND THE EAST COAST 

bosch and Newlands, a view which at once charms 
and delights us. Now the road bends to the south- 
east and in a very few moments we are at the station 
in Kalk Bay, one of the most popular seashore resorts 
of the Cape. 

The mountain or hill upon the side of which Kalk 
Bay is built, rises abruptly up from the beautiful 
blue waters of False Bay, an arm of the Indian 
Ocean. Here the water in the sea is ten degrees 
warmer than that at Cape Town, only fifteen miles 
away. This fact naturally makes Kalk Bay and the 
neighboring towns on the Indian Ocean much more 
popular than any of the resorts, only a few miles 
distant, on the Atlantic seashore. Wealthy people 
living as far away as Johannesburg and Pretoria 
have built for themselves beautiful little cottages in 
Kalk Bay. One particularly interesting house is 
built upon the plan of a steamer; its windows are 
portholes and its bedrooms are regular little state- 
rooms witlj bunks for beds and all the other necessary 
steamer furnishings. The streets facing the sea lie 
one above the other: they rise so abruptly that the 
roofs of houses on a lower street are on a level with 
the foundations of houses on the next street above. 
Nearly all the houses here are but one story high; 
nevertheless many of them are very large and con- 
veniently arranged. All have broad verandas, well 
protected with glass windows at the ends and with 
Indian screens or curtains in front. From the veran- 



AT THE SEASHORE 127 

das one has a fine view of False Bay — stretching out 
in an almost perfect semicircle, and enclosed by 
rugged, rocky mountains. 

Fishing is a great industry along the coast, and 
every morning a hundred or more boats come ashore, 
laden with many kinds of fish. What is not sold to 
the inhabitants on the coast, is taken to the great cold 
storage plant in Kalk Bay, and later is shipped way 
"up country," even as far as Victoria Falls. 

Kalk Bay proper has no beach; some of the people 
have put up bath-houses on the rocks, but the ma- 
jority of them go to neighboring towns for sea-bath- 
ing. One of the most beautiful beaches in the world 
is at Fish Hoek, about a mile beyond Kalk Bay. This 
entire beach, with the adjoining land extending back 
up the mountains, is owned by a farmer, who has 
built himself a very pretty home near the water. 
Besides this house, Fish Hoek boasts of but one other 
and a few huts for fishermen. This farmer will not 
sell a foot of his land; nor will he allow any one to 
put up bath-houses there. Nevertheless Fish Hoek 
beach is a favorite bathing-place, and the bathers find 
natural bath-houses among the rocks and boulders. 
Those who are fortunate enough to be friends of the 
family living next door to this farmer, are allowed 
the privilege of using his private bath-houses, of 
which there is a large number in his back yard. And 
curious enough are these six or eight little bath- 
houses, for they are all made out of piano packing- 



128 SOUTH AFRICA AND THE EAST COAST 

boxes. A few nails inside and a calico curtain for a 
door constitute the furnishings of these simple houses. 
American children often use old piano boxes for play- 
houses, but probably no American seashore resort can 
boast of a bath-house made of a piano box. 

Our first dip in the delightfully warm water at 
Fish Hoek makes us wish there were time to spend 
a whole summer in this locality. This beach is fre- 
quented especially by women and children, because it 
is remarkable for its safety in bathing, there being 
no strong undertow as at some other places on the 
same bay. If we think the piano boxes unique, then 
the costumes that are seen in the surf are even more 
so. American women and girls who have wisely 
brought their suits from their native land, are quite 
conspicuous on a South African beach, in their gar- 
ments cut after an American pattern, usually of dark 
blue or black alpaca and prettily trimmed with braid. 
The Africander's costume, imported chiefly from 
England, 4s of every conceivable shade and hue, red 
and pink being favorite colors, while the material 
varies in weight from sateen to the heaviest serge. 
Outing flannel in gay stripes also is much used for 
bathing-suits. 

If there were time we would go across False Bay 
to another popular resort, Gordon's Bay. Over there 
is found the octopus, that queer sort of sea-creature 
which looks like a huge piece of jelly. He is really 
dangerous, for with his long tendril-like arms he can 



AT THE SEASHORE 129 

pull a child or even a man under the rocks. Sharks, 
tpo, sport about in the waters of Gordon's Bay, and 
now and then a bather loses an arm or a leg and 
sometimes even his life. It is perhaps just as well, 
then, that we depart from safe little Fish Hoek beach 
with all our members still attached to our bodies, and 
leave Gordon's Bay to be visited by others who enjoy 
sea-bathing which has an element of danger in it. 



MISSIONS 

Turning now from these scenes of gaiety, we will 
make a very different excursion to a place not over 
fifty miles from Cape Town, where we shall see a 
more serious, yet not less interesting side of life. A 
visit to South Africa is incomplete without some 
acquaintance with missions and mission work. Far 
to the north in Nyassa Land are the stations of the 
Dutch Reformed Church. On the Zambesi the 
French are at work among the Barotsi. There are 
English, Scotch and American missionaries in nearly 
every native settlement. At Gnadendal we shall see 
the oldest mission station in Africa. Here four gen- 
erations have felt the benefit of Christian teaching, 
and one may see the result of missionary work among 
the African natives. j 

In 1737 a Moravian, George Schmidt, wished to go 
to Africa to work among the blacks. He was crippled 
by the chains he had worn during five years' im- 
prisonment at a time when a severe religious perse- 
cution was directed against the Moravians in Ger- 
many. He reformed the life of the rough sailors on 
his ship by preaching and teaching among them on 
his outward voyage. At Cape Town he went to work 
at once among the slaves. It was a new idea that 
blacks could have souls, and the authorities of the 
Dutch East India Company, alarmed at the success 
of his labors, banished him from the city. 



MISSIONS 131 

He sought refuge near what is now the town of 
Caledon, in a lonely valley called Bavian's Kloof (the 
vale of baboons). Here the Hottentots, the most 
hopeless and degraded of the natives, came to him. 
The fame of his work spread abroad, and the people 
at Stellenbosch, two hundred miles away, complained 
that the tinkling of his little church bell disturbed the 
quiet of their Sabbath morning, and they insisted on 
his recall. 

For fifty years a colored woman treasured the 
Bible Schmidt had given her. Some years after he 
left Africa she was in Cape Town when a company 
of Moravians came on shore. She recognized them 
by their manner of dress and showed them her Bible 
wrapped in sheepskin, and they took her story home 
to Germany. A new band of Moravian missionaries 
was sent out, and the work in Bavian's Kloof, which 
now became Gnadendal (the vale of grace), was 
recommenced. 

When w r e enter the village we drive past neat little 
homes made of sun-baked bricks. Trellised grape 
vines shade the doorways. The valley below is filled 
with prosperous farms. In the church on Sunday a 
thousand voices are lifted in praise ; a native organist 
plays with fine expression the large pipe organ. On 
one side of the church sit the women in their neat 
white kerchiefs and aprons; on the other side are the 
men. Facing each other in front are the benches 
filled with most attractive little boys and girls. The 



132 SOUTH AFRICA AND THE EAST COAST 

people look clean, self-respecting and intelligent. 
The missionaries live on a very small salary, but their 
homes show great refinement, and they are extremely 
interesting men and women. There is a printing- 
office here, and a training-school for native teachers, 
and everything possible is done to ennoble the lives 
of the natives. 

At the home of a descendant of Count Zinzendorf 
we see the portrait of this great leader of the Mora- 
vians. The treasure for which book collectors have 
offered a small fortune is shown us at the home of 
another missionary. It is the first Bible ever placed 
in the hands of a black — the one given by Schmidt 
to the Hottentot woman and so carefully preserved 
by her for fifty years. At other stations in Africa, 
because the work is newer, it has many more discour- 
aging features; here the hundred years of toil are 
beginning to produce results. 

In the old garden of George Schmidt is a pear tree 
which he planted. Every one thought it dead for a 
number of years, then fresh shoots came out, and 
today it is a flourishing tree, bearing fruit. The 
results of great sacrifice and hard work are often for 
the generations that are to come. So many heroic 
lives from the time of Schmidt and Livingstone down 
to the present have been sacrificed to Africa, that the 
story of the pear tree should be symbolical of her 
future. 

The rapid transition from this peaceful vale of 



MISSIONS 133 

grace to the noise and traffic of busy Cape Town 
makes us realize anew the vastness of the world's 
enterprises. Here in one spot we see men giving 
their lives that the lives of others may be made bet- 
ter; not far distant we see men spending their lives 
for purely selfish purposes. These contrasts are not 
so evident in America, for there we usually associate 
the idea of missions with distant lands, and think 
very little about them because they are so far 
removed. 



UP THE EAST COAST 

And now our thoughts turn toward our distant 
home. It is time for us to start on our way back to 
America, and a roundabout way it is. We have a 
variety of routes from which to choose, starting from 
Cape Town. It is said by travelers that the most 
interesting tour in the world is from Cape Town to 
Europe, up the East Coast of Africa. Let us, then, 
follow this course and begin at once our homeward 
journey. 

Our entrance into Table Bay was with a greeting 
from the "Cape Doctor," the great "Southeaster," 
which draped its table cloth over Table Mountain, 
partially obscuring our view. In the excitement of 
landing, after a sea voyage, one does not often fully 
enjoy the scenery. On the other hand, when depart- 
ing, one watches the receding land until it is entirely 
lost to sight. The day set for our sailing proves a 
perfect one, and not the tiniest speck of a table cloth 
is clinging to the old mountain's level top. As the 
gong sounds for our departure, we wave a last good- 
by to our friends on the wharf ; our ship slips quietly 
out of her dock, and moves off to the cheerful strains 
of her orchestra. We take seats in the stern of 
the ship, in order to see Cape Town as it fades 
away in the distance. On our left is Robben Island, 
which curiosity leads some people to visit; here is a 
leper colony, for that terrible disease, leprosy, is all 
too prevalent at the Cape. Turning our eyes to the 



UP THE EAST COAST 



135 



land once more, we watch the city grow dimmer and 
fainter, until only the mountains are discernible. 
Table Mountain, with its neighbors, Lion's Head and 
Devil's Peak, stands out gray and grim. 

Our last glimpse of land is caught in the evening 
when we pass Cape Point, where a large lighthouse 
sends forth its rays of light. The lighthouse tower 




LIGHTHOUSE— CAPE POINT 



stands on a high cliff on the very southernmost point 
of the Cape of Good Hope. Some of us were fortu- 
nate enough to go to this point on a midnight picnic, 
and had the pleasure of a visit of several days at the 
lighthouse. Daylight fades into twilight; the deck 
is silent; all have gone below to prepare for dinner, 
the first meal to be enjoyed on board — also the last 
one for some days for a few of the passengers, since 



136 



SOUTH AFRICA AND THE EAST COAST 




A SOUTH AFRICAN TIGER 



there are always people who fail to appear at table 
the first few days of an ocean voyage. At bedtime 
we are ready to retire, for the day has been crowded 
with excitement. Wearied with the events of the 
day, and sfad over parting from friends, we lay tired 
heads down upon our pillows, and soon we are asleep. 
There is nothing to see all the next day, so we read 
some of our steamer letters from numerous friends 
in South Africa. In one of them is the photograph 
of a South African tiger, captured near Wellington. 
In the kloofs near the town the baboons come down 
and bark at passers-by, and once in a while a tiger 
strolls out by night. This one was not sufficiently 
wary, and was caught in a trap set by a Boer farmer. 



PORT ELIZABETH 

Two nights and a day pass, and the second morn- 
ing dawns upon us in Algoa Bay. Here the ship 
casts anchor for the day, and all who wish may go 
ashore in a tug-boat, and spend the day in the city 
of Port Elizabeth. The harbor is the scene of ex- 
traordinary activity, for much shipping is done in 
Algoa Bay. Large quantities of wool are shipped to 
Australia, Europe, and America. Ostrich feathers, 
too, form an important export, the largest farms 
being in the central and eastern part of the Colony* 
Port Elizabeth, aptly named "The Liverpool of the 
Cape," lies on a high bluff overlooking the sea. As 
to population, it ranks second in the colony, but holds 
first place as a shipping-port on the South East 
Coast. It was founded in 1820, and derived its name 
from Lady Elizabeth, wife of the then acting gov- 
ernor, Sir Rufane Donkin. Port Elizabeth is less* 
than a century old, but in its short life the city has 
been made to look very beautiful, especially by the 
trees that have been planted in it. 

In the main business center of the city, the build- 
ings are as fine as those in Cape Town. One build- 
ing especially worthy of notice is the Town Hall in 
Market Square, a stately structure Romanesque in 
style, but with a portico of Corinthian pillars. This 
is one of the finest buildings in the colony, and one 



138 



SOUTH AFRICA AND THE EAST COAST 



of which every colonial may be justly proud. In 
Port Elizabeth the shop windows are just as. attrac- 
tive as those in Cape Town. There are several large 
shops that make especially beautiful displays of 
ostrich plumes and the skins of wild animals, also 




PUBLIC LIBRARY— PORT ELIZABETH 

many kinds of bead and basket work done by the 
natives. The fashionable residence portion of the 
city is on the "Hill," a flat tableland on the terraced 
ground above Main Street. The cottages and villas 
are generally similar to those of Cape Town, being 
usually but one story high. The grounds surround- 
ing these residences are remarkably beautiful, and 



PORT ELIZABETH 139 

one finds here larger green lawns than elsewhere in 
the colony. 

Port Elizabeth is justly proud of its three beauti- 
ful parks. The largest and finest of these is St. 
George's Park, in the center of the choice residence 
section on "The Hill." This park combines natural 
and artificial beauties, and its conservatory is the 
largest structure of the kind in South Africa. There 
are delightful walks laid out through the park, sur- 
rounded everywhere with ample verdure and plants 
and flowers of many varieties. In the North End, 
at the terminus of the tram line, is Prince Alfred's 
Park, while in the South End is Victoria Park, which 
covers a large area, and bids fair to become one of 
the finest parks in town. 

There are many pleasant drives around Port Eliza- 
beth, among them being that .through the residence 
part of "The Hill" and around the mile circle of 
St. George's Park, and longer drives outside the city 
to Emerald Hill, Humewood, and Zwartkops. 



UITENHAGE 

In a day, one can get a very fair idea of Port 
Elizabeth, but at least a week should be taken, if one 
wishes to see something of the country in the East- 
ern Province. Time being no object with us, we will 
say good-by to the steamer and depart by rail for a 
trip to Uitenhage. From the car windows very lit- 
tle is to be seen. The vegetation consists mainly of 
cactus and aloe, and the land is bare and uninterest- 
ing. Still, the towns through which we pass are 
very pretty and attractive. Almost any section of 
South Africa can be made productive if man is will- 
ing to supply the water and the necessary energy. 

In less than an hour's time, our train arrives at 
Uitenhage, one of the oldest towns in the Eastern 
Province. It occupies a beautiful site near the 
Zwartkops River, in a little valley at the foot of the 
Winterhoek Mountain, and it has the reputation of 
being one of the most delightful places in the Colony. 
It possesses a wonderful spring, which yields nearly 
two million gallons of water a day. With this abun- 
dant supply of water, the town has won for itself the 
name of "Garden of the Eastern Province." The 
streets are remarkably broad and are well shaded by 
century-old oaks and other trees. Between the roads 
and sidewalks are "sluits" or gutters filled with clear 
running water. The villas have hedges of roses and 
pomegranates which fill the air with sweet perfume. 



U1TENHAGE 



141 



The town has two large boarding schools, one for 
boys, the other for girls, both well equipped, and 
having fine buildings and grounds. The chief attrac- 
tion of the town is Magennis Park, one of three 




From stereograph copyright by Underwood & Underwood, N. Y. 

A CONSPICUOUS INHABITANT OF CAPE COLONY 

parks which are especially interesting because of the 
remarkable variety of trees planted in them. Uiten- 
hage district is a happy hunting-ground for sports- 
men, since the fauna includes elephants, Cape buf- 
falo, zebra, antelopes of many kinds, and hundreds 
of varieties of birds, ranging from the stately ostrich 
to the tiny humming bird. 



142 SOUTH AFRICA AND THE EAST COAST 

A four or five hour cart- journey from Uitenhage 
brings us to some of the largest and best farms in 
the Colony. Ostrich and fruit farms are numerous 
in this district, and there are also some very good 
dairy farms here. The country roads often are 
rough, broken up by deep ruts caused by the heavy 
rains, thus making a long cart- journey not the great- 
est pleasure in the world. When the midsummer sun 
beats down on the hood of a Cape cart, jogging along 
over a hard, rough road, the visitor almost wishes he 
had not taken this ride. 

The driver stops to rest his horses, and we climb 
out ourselves, and find refreshment in a prickly pear, 
for scarcely anything but cactus plants are to be 
seen along these country roads. We do not attempt 
to pick these pears, but instead take a club and knock 
the fruit off the bush. Even then we dare not 
touch the pear with the fingers, but placing the foot 
on it, we roll it on the sandy road until the prickles 
are all worn off ; then only may we pick it up. Next 
we cut off the top with a pocket knife and suck out 
the sweet juice. A prickly pear picked on a hot 
sunny day is not at all cooling; nevertheless it is a bit 
refreshing, and certainly the eating of it is an inter- 
esting experience to one who has never before par- 
taken of the fruit. 



GRAHAMSTOWN 

Leaving Uitenhage district, we still have time for 
a few days' trip to Grahamstown, about a hundred 
miles by rail to the northeast of Port Elizabeth. Gra- 
hamstown, called the Cathedral Town because of its 
numerous churches and two bishops ( Church of Eng- 
land and Roman Catholic), has also several large 
church schools and a new university founded with 
funds left by Cecil Rhodes for the purpose, also a 
public hospital and a provincial lunatic asylum. Mark 
Twain lectured here several years ago, on his tour 
around the world. He christened the place "A town 
of churches and paraffin lamps." 

The churches, school buildings, and many of the 
residences of Grahamstown are really beautiful. 
The town itself is well laid out, having broad shaded 
streets; its botanical gardens form one of the most 
beautiful parks in the Colony, where children love to 
play, and where people go for recreation and rest. 
The walks in the park are lined on both sides with all 
kinds of tropical plants. One of the features here 
is a mighty oak, the oldest tree in Grahamstown, 
planted in 1820. From the train one has an excellent 
view of the town; it rises up from a little valley and 
spreads out all around on the surrounding hills, like 
an old Greek amphitheater. 

Life in this beautiful little town is made most 
pleasant and agreeable, so it seems to the visitor. For 

143 



144 SOUTH AFRICA AND THE EAST COAST 

one staying at a friend's house, the daily programme 
begins with the entrance of a maid into the bedroom 
at seven in the morning, bringing either coffee and 
rolls or fruit, as the guest prefers. If it is fruit, one 
is supplied with a whole pineapple, or an immense 
bunch of grapes, or a quantity of some other fruit, 
each in its season. A favorite fruit in this part of 
the Colony is the grenadillo, the fruit of the passion- 
flower plant. In the height of the season pineapples 
can be bought for as low as a cent apiece. It is said 
that an enterprising farmer near Grahamstown once 
brought back some pineapples from Natal, and 
planted three of them. From these first three have 
sprung all the plants that are now growing in the 
Eastern Province of Cape Colony. For a farmer to 
clear $3,000 a year from pineapples is not unusual; 
the plants yield all the year round, sometimes one sin- 
gle plant producing fifteen pineapples, with but one 
fruit developing at a time. The plants are not over 
two or three feet high, and many large fields of them 
are seen as one rides along on the train. 

The servant question here is an interesting one. 
In one of Grahamstown's best families, the cook, 
who has been in the family fifteen years, receives six 
dollars a month, the nurse girl receives four, and a 
boy for all kinds of outdoor and indoor work is paid 
five dollars. So for fifteen dollars a month a family 
can keep three excellent servants and often have the 
same ones year after year. In this particular in- 



GRAHAMSTOWN 145 

stance, the money earned by the nurse girl, who is 
but fifteen years old, goes to her father, while the 
other two, being older, receive their own wages. It is 
the Kafir custom for young girls not to have their 
own earnings. The native parents are very kind to 
their children, and they are always going round to 
see how the latter are being treated by their employ- 
ers. The nurse girl just mentioned is called Topsy, 
a name evidently taken from "Uncle Tom's Cabin," 
for everybody in Cape Colony reads that book. 

As a resort for invalids, particularly those with 
delicate lungs, no place in all South Africa is to be 
more highly recommended than Grahamstown. Won- 
derful cures are on record of health-seekers who 
have spent some years in this neighborhood; people 
who were thought to be incurable have returned later 
to Europe in perfect health. To the sportsman this 
same locality offers much pleasure and excitement. 
Antelopes of various kinds abound, the agile spring- 
bok being very common and the favorite of the 
hunters. 

In the summer time Grahamstown is quite de- 
serted, for all who can, go down to Port Alfred, 
or the Kowie, as it is commonly called, about forty- 
three miles to the southeast, on the coast. 



PORT ALFRED 

Port Alfred lies at the mouth of the Kowie, one 
of the prettiest rivers in Cape Colony. Surf -bath- 
ing and rowing on the river are the chief means of 
pleasure for the visitor at this seashore resort. The 
village itself lies high up on a hill overlooking the 
sea. It is fully a mile from the main street to the 
beach, and there is no hotel near the water, nor a 
single bath-house on the beach. The beach stretches 
out for a mile or more, its beautiful white sand look- 
ing most attractive to the visitor. Boulders and great 
sand dunes are scattered here and there, and these 
many bathers use for bath-houses. 

Since the people live so far away from the beach, 
bathing here is very different from bathing at Fish 
Hoek and other South African resorts. Many fami- 
lies have carriages of one kind or another, and before 
breakfast every summer morning one sees a proces- 
sion of conveyances all headed for the beach. Ar- 
riving at the water's edge, the drivers line up their 
carts and carriages as is done in front of a large city 
theater. For the time being each carriage is turned 
into an impromptu bath-house; the best houses are 
those made by the big ox-wagons with canvas- 
covered tops, like our "prairie-schooners." 

Those who have no horses or oxen at the Kowie 
find bathing here almost impossible, because a walk 
of a mile on a hot summer's day along unshaded 



POUT ALFRED 147 

roads is exhausting. Some people rent houses here 
that are not equipped with any means of conveyance, 
but these must depend upon friends for occasional 
trips to the beach. If they have a neighbor who 
owns an ox-wagon capable of holding ten or a dozen 
persons, and eight or ten good strong oxen to pull 
the wagon, and if an invitation is extended to join 
the family party every morning for a dip in the surf, 
life at this pretty little resort is one round of fun 
and pleasure. 

It is amusing enough to see the morning bathers 
starting off down the hill toward the beach; the 
clumsy ox-wagons bump along over the ruts in the 
roads, while the occupants inside tumble back and 
forth upon one another. Their costumes are wonder- 
ful to behold, for each one has on a bathing-suit over 
which is a kimono, dressing-gown, or some such cov- 
ering, while bath-towels are very much in evidence. 
Every one is off for a good time and every one finds 
it at Port Alfred. 

A unique feature in Port Alfred is the Lagoon, 
much frequented by women and children. It is a 
large salt-water pond, covering an acre or two, and 
not over ten feet deep in the deepest part. It is 
just inside the breakwater, and is affected by the 
tides, since it is connected with the sea by a passage 
under the breakwater. The water here is always 
warmer than the surf outside, and, moreover, the 
place is an excellent one in which to learn to swim. 



148 SOUTH AFRICA AND THE EAST COAST 

There are numbers of bath-houses near the Lagoon, 
which fact makes it convenient as a bathing-place. 

If success had crowned the efforts of the govern- 
ment to make Port Alfred a harbor, we should have 
been able to embark here for the further continuance 
of our journey. But since this port is at present 
the grave of the £800,000 expended upon it, we must 
return by train to Port Elizabeth. A night on a 
sleeping-car brings us back to Algoa Bay, where 
our ship is already anchored, a week having elapsed 
since we came ashore for this little excursion. 



EAST LONDON 

Now we embark on one of the fine steamers of the 
Deutsche Ost Afrika Linie (German East Africa 
Line). Their vessels make the complete circuit of 
the African continent, going alternately down the 
West Coast and up the East, thence to Hamburg, and 
vice versa. This is the only steamship line that sends 
ships on this circular voyage. 

We sail by lovely Port Alfred in the night (were 
it daytime, we could distinctly see the village, for the 
ships pass very close) and at five o'clock the next 
morning we are awakened by much noise and confu- 
sion, for we are anchoring in the harbor at East Lon- 
don. As at Port Elizabeth, our ship remains here 
all day, and nearly every one on board goes ashore 
to see the town. From the vessel one can see very 
little of East London, which is built up near the 
mouth of the Buffalo River. Large sums of money 
have been spent here in the attempt to make it pos- 
sible for ships to enter the river's mouth, but as yet 
all loading and unloading of passengers and freight 
must be carried on out in the harbor. There is a large 
sand-bar here, and it is usual at this most exposed 
point of the South African coast for vessels to ex- 
perience a heavy roll. Leaving the ship in a small 
tug, we approach East London, watching the huge 
rollers as they break on the rocks and send their 
white spray high into the air. 

Of late years, East London has held the belliger- 



150 



SOUTH AFRICA AND THE EAST COAST 



ent title of the "Fighting Port" because of her keen- 
ness for up-country trade. The town, one of the 
chief ports of Cape Colony, is also one of the loveli- 
est residence places. No matter how high the tem- 
perature rises on the hottest summer day, the nights 

are always cool and 
refreshing. The town 
lies on grassy slopes, 
a hundred and fifty 
feet above the sea. 
Within the past fif- 
teen years its popu- 
lation has increased 
from 7,000 to 24,000, 
and there is every 
chance of East Lon- 
don becoming one of 
the largest cities in 
the Colony. Much 
money has been spent 
in harbor works, but 
animals of the east coast as yet only the 

smaller boats can 
cross the bar and enter the river. A great break- 
water, sixteen hundred feet long, protects the river's 
mouth, and training walls have been constructed on 
both sides of the stream, narrowing its entrance to 
two hundred and fifty feet. Dredgers are constantly 
at work, keeping the channel open. The wharves, 




EAST LONDON 



151 



already nearly a mile in length, are being constantly 
extended, as increase in commerce demands more 



room. 



As regards modern improvements, East London 
is as up-to-date as any other city in the Colony; it 
has electric lights and electric tramways. Pleasure- 




ZEBRAS OF SOUTH AFRICA 



seekers here can have every wish gratified; picnic 
parties know where to find inviting spots up the Buf- 
falo River, and for those who like it there is boating 
on the river. 

For a steamer passenger stopping for a day's visit 
to this delightful town, a drive would probably be 
more restful than a river trip. There is considerable 
choice as to drives; one of the best known and most 
widely patronized by visitors is that out to Southern- 



152 SOUTH AFRICA AND THE EAST COAST 

wood, a residence quarter of the city. Beyond this is 
Cambridge, with its beautiful natural scenery around 
the "Horseshoe." On the return drive a different 
route may be taken which offers other scenic attrac- 
tions. Another delightful drive is out to the Nahoon 
River, about three miles away, giving to the visitor 
various charming glimpses of river and mountain, in- 
terspersed with wild crags and precipices, and pictur- 
esque views. A drive about the city itself is pleasant, 
and a visit to Queen's Park should not be omitted, 
for this pleasure-ground is one of the most attract- 
ive spots of the town. It covers an area of eighty 
acres, and is ©specially noted for its natural beauties, 
which have not been destroyed by its many artificial 
walks, grassy plots, and flower beds. 

One could easily spend a week in this quiet, restful 
atmosphere, but the setting sun warns the visitor that 
ships, like time and tide, wait for no man. The sea 
has saved up its biggest rollers for the exit from 
East London, just to show the visitor what such a 
display of wave and billow means; all who went 
ashore for the day are returning — not as they de- 
parted, by a ladder from steamer to tug, but in the 
basket from tug to steamer. The experience is de- 
cidedly new for many. The huge basket of human 
freight swings out over the sea, and the three or four 
inmates look up at the blue sky overhead, feeling a 
bit shaky, knowing that nothing is between them and 
the briny deep. For a moment the basket hovers 



p:ast LONDON 153 

over the steamer's deck, then it sweeps down, almost 
falling to the deck, and giving to the passengers 
within a sensation similar to that experienced in an 
elevator which is allowed to strike bottom suddenly. 



DURBAN 

Leaving East London at sundown, we approach 
Durban the following afternoon. For several hours 
before reaching port, we sail along very close to the 
shore, which pleases us with its remarkably green 
landscape. What we see first is the shore of Kaf- 
fraria, the land of the Fingoes and Pondos, border- 
ing on Natal — the "Garden of South Africa," as it 
has been fitly called. The hills in the distance are all 
so green that we are forcibly reminded of Ireland 
as one sees it on the voyage from New York to 
Liverpool. 

At last the bluff at Durban comes into view, with 
its tall white lighthouse rising out of the midst of 
the verdure. Rounding this point, we see the great 
breakwater and a harbor full of ships, and beyond it 
all the beautiful city, rising up from the sea on quite 
a high hill. Were there mountains instead of hills 
here, the approach to Durban would almost equal 
that to Cape Town for beauty and picturesqueness. 
We enter the docks to a joyful German air, played 
by the orchestra, and as soon as the gangplank is let 
down, our decks swarm with hotel porters and laun- 
drymen. Since six days are to be spent in the docks, 
many of the passengers leave the ship to go to the 
houses of friends or to hotels, while others, who do 
not mind noise, remain on board. 

We do not wait long before going off the ship, 



DURBAN 



155 



and the first thing to do is to take a little walk along 
the Bay Esplanade, a lovely boulevard laid out with 
grassplots and palms, and having rustic benches here 
and there. An hour's walk in Durban's delightful 




ENTRANCE TO DURBAN 



atmosphere gives one an appetite, and we return to 
our vessel just in time to sit down to our usual excel- 
lent menu. Whether on the high seas or in port, it is 
all the same to us, for the efforts of the chef never 
fall below the high standard with which he started 
out on his long voyage several months ago. 

At bedtime everything seems auspicious for a 
pleasant night's rest, but in the early morn — at day- 



156 SOUTH AFRICA AND THE EAST COAST 

break, in fact — a deafening noise strikes our ears. 
We arise earlier than usual, and investigate the cause 
of all this commotion. There are cars loaded with 
coal standing on tracks close beside the ship, and 
hundreds of Zulus, almost naked, are carrying coal 
in baskets on their heads, and dumping it into the 
hold. A constant procession of these natives is mov- 
ing round one of the lower decks. Because of the 
dirt and dust, the upper deck is closely covered with 
an awning and all windows and portholes are closed. 
Inside, electric fans are buzzing everywhere, but in 
spite of them all it is uncomfortably warm on ship- 
board. We decide to spend each day on shore, since 
Durban seems to offer many inducements for sight- 
seeing. 

The province of Natal and its two chief cities of 
Durban and Pietermaritzburg seem very different 
from anything we have thus far seen. Here there 
is the luxuriant vegetation of the tropics, and the 
social atmosphere is more decidedly English than 
elsewhere. 

Durban is, in fact, one of the most English places 
in South Africa, and it is certainly one of the most 
beautiful. Rickshaws meet us at the wharf and we 
find that in Natal they take the place of cabs almost 
entirely. The fare is less here than in other cities; 
for about five cents we have a delightful ride, skim- 
ming along over the broad, clean, well-paved streets. 
Competition is keen among the rickshaw boys, and 



DURBAN 



157 



they seem to enjoy earning their fees. But 
we learn the great exertion tells on their health in 
time, and they die early of consumption, although 
they are for the most part of the finest native race 
in Africa — the Zulus. They add a picturesque ele- 




THE ESPLANADE AT DURBAN 
A rickshaw boy shown in the foreground 

ment to the street life, in their bright-colored tuinics, 
with horns on their heads and bells on their heels. 

We lunch at the hotel. When we enter the dining- 
room and see what seem to us fifty Moorish princes 
all in white linen, with snowy turbans, ready to wait 
upon us, we feel like the barber in the Arabian 
Nights, who was moved into the king's palace while 



158 



SOUTH AFRICA AND THE EAST COAST 



he slept and awoke to find a royal retinue ready to 
do his bidding. The many villages and the great 
Indian temple speak of the number of Malays here. 
Many of these find employment in the mines pro- 
ducing coal and minerals. 

The residence portion of Durban is charming. 
From a distance it is like a vast jungle. Villas and 




RICKSHAWS OF DURBAN 



bungalows are set in the midst of gardens of rich 
foliage. The land rises from the sea in wooded ter- 
races and the people find refuge from the heat in this 
natural "hanging garden of Babylon." The finest 
homes are on the high terraces called the Berea. Here 



DURBAN 159 

there is a view of the land-locked harbor below, 
which was until lately the "incurable disease" of the 
country. 

A sand-bar had formed across the entrance to the 
harbor, over which flowed only two feet of water 
at low tide. The genius of engineers and the wealth 
of the Colony have been expended upon this prob- 
lem. Now a system of dredging makes it possible for 
the huge weekly mail ships to pass through the nar- 
row entrance between the long breakwater and the 
projecting land, into the quiet harbor of Port Natal. 
Here the mail boat terminates its voyage from Eng- 
land after a run of seven thousand miles. 

The resorts that surround the city are as pleasing 
as their musical Zulu names — Umkomas, Amanzim- 
toti, Umbogintwini. The native languages have for 
many letters a clicking sound, which, like that of the 
Dutch "g," is difficult to. acquire unless one is taught 
in childhood. One can never be sure of pronuncia- 
tion where there is such a mixture of French, 
Dutch, Zulu and English names. Pietermaritzburg, 
the capital of Natal, was named from the two lead- 
ers of the Boers who trekked there in 1837. D'Urban 
was an early English governor, and the name Natal 
was given to the country by Vasco da Gama, because 
he first saw the land on the day of Christ's nativity, 
in the year 1497. 

The tram service in Durban is under municipal 
ownership and is unusually good. There are stations 



160 



SOUTH AFRICA AND THE EAST COAST 



between which one can ride for the small fare of 
a penny. Instead of each shopkeeper having his own 
carriers, deliveries from the stores are made by tram. 
There are some seventy thousand people in Dur- 
ban, but like most of the commercial centers in South 




WEST STREET, DURBAN 



Africa the city seems much larger than it is. Here 
as elsewhere there is time to enjoy life, and at eleven 
o'clock and at four o'clock all business seems sus- 
pended, and the tea-rooms are thronged. The docks 
are always a scene of activity, for this rich district 
yields many products for exportation. The chief 
wealth of Natal is in sugar, tea, cereals, livestock, 
and coal. 



DURBAN 161 

The American has the reputation of being the 
chief of "globe-trotters," but the Africander is a 
greater traveler. Families of moderate means plan 
to go "home," as they call England or Scotland, every 
five years, and one frequently meets students from 
some European school who have come home to Africa 
to see their parents during the two months' summer 
vacation — a distance equal to that between San Fran- 
cisco and London. To us this cruise half-way round 
the world is a remarkable achievement; to the trav- 
eled, cosmopolitan Africander it is an everyday 
affair. But not every Africander makes a circuit 
of his continent, because the East Coast trip is much 
longer and more expensive than the regular mail 
route up and down the West Coast. 

We sail from Durban at daybreak. Silently our 
good vessel slips away from her moorings while we 
are yet asleep, and when we go to breakfast we can 
see nothing of the town, which in six days we have 
learned to love so well. 

All day long, for fully three hundred miles, we 
are in sight of a long straight line of sand hills, beau- 
tifully green on top; such is the coast between Dur- 
ban and our next stopping-place, Lorenzo Marques. 



LORENZO MARQUES 

Lorenzo Marques is the capital of Portuguese 
East Africa, and is said to be one of the most flour- 
ishing ports along the East Coast. It certainly has 
one of the best harbors, with the added advantage 
of having ships anchor right at the docks near the 
principal streets. Since this is the port nearest to 
Johannesburg and Pretoria, it follows that a vast 
amount of shipping goes through here, which neces- 
sitates extensive wharves and warehouses. Conse- 
quently, our ship has to remain here four whole days. 
The business of unloading freight goes on all 
day long, often up to midnight, and begins again 
as early as four o'clock in the morning. 

This part of Africa is excessively hot for about 
three months ; but almost daily showers, consisting of 
a heavy downpour for an hour or more, make life 
here quite possible. In the forenoon the streets may 
be running rivers, but when the sun comes out later, 
everything is soon dry, and after luncheon every one 
goes out to "do" the town. But before returning to 
the ship, we decide that the town has "done" us. 

We go for a tram ride, which takes us all around 
the place in about an hour's time. This ride costs 
each one four hundred reis in Portuguese money, in 
English money about a shilling and eightpence, and 
in United States money about forty cents — an ex- 
orbitant price. The residences of Lorenzo Marques 



LORENZO MARQUES 163 

are mostly modest little cottages, with now and then 
a more pretentious dwelling set far back in beautiful 
grounds, evidently the property of some high official. 
The shops are less attractive than those of any other 
place we have yet seen in Africa. The population 
of the town, about 6,000, is equally divided between 
natives and Europeans, the majority of the latter 
being Portuguese. The natives have so intermarried 
with the Portuguese, themselves a dark-skinned peo- 
ple, that we find it difficult to distinguish between the 
two races. 

Besides an electric tram line, Lorenzo Marques 
has also many rickshaw boys; but having found the 
first means of transit so very expensive, everybody 
explores the town on foot in the remaining three days. 
The market attracts us one morning, but there is such 
confusion of dark people and strange smells here 
that a hasty glance inside is enough for us. The 
hasty glance has shown us, however, many curious 
and unknown kinds of fruit. We should like to 
taste some of these tropical fruits, but trading with 
these people and haggling over the change, where 
hundreds of reis are at stake, is quite too much 
mental work for a hot day. However, the ship's 
stewards are more energetic; at dinner one evening 
we find a goodly assortment of strange fruits on our 
table. We taste the mangoes, which look something 
like large pears and have an odor of turpentine. 

Lady Anne Brassey, in her little book "A Voyage 



164 SOUTH AFRICA AND THE EAST COAST 

in the Sunbeam," says that the mango is certainly 
the king of fruit; that its flavor is a combination of 
apricot and pineapple. However, each to his own 
taste! The majority of uninitiated tourists never 
reach the stage where they can eat mangoes at all. 
But if you persist, so say those who know, you will 
find the mango the most delicious fruit for break- 
fast. Cutting off the top, you think you have a gill 
of vaseline before you. But the first dip of the spoon 
proves that your prize is half seed, and after the first 
taste, you are glad it is. Your friends, desirous of 
seeing you enjoy the good things in life, insist upon 
your eating every bit of it, assuring you that then 
you will love the mango for evermore. You steel 
yourself to the task, and the next morning, when 
the steward serves you one, cold and dewy from 
the ice-chest, you accept it and the habit is fixed upon 
you. Some insist at the end of the journey that man- 
goes are delicious, and any one who persists to what 
is literally the bitter end will agree that they are not 
"half bad." The other fruits we leave untasted and 
unnamed — a pleasure in store for those who come 
after us. 

Our shopping in Lorenzo Marques is confined to 
the purchase of picture post-cards, the price of which 
is threepence each. The second night at the docks 
is unpleasantly warm, and all of us suffer because of 
the swarms of mosquitoes that also spend the night 
on board. All arise early and unrefreshed, but a 



LORENZO MARQUES 



165 



morning shower of rain soon changes every one's feel- 
ings. In our walk about town this day, we climb up 
to the top of a hill not many blocks from the 
wharves, to get a nearer view of an old fort, which is 
the one attractive feature of the town, especially when 




dS#>j 



THE FORT AT LORENZO MARQUES 

seen from the harbor. It is evidently very old; yet 
every stone is intact. 

On the fourth and last day, we go on a picnic, 
planned and carried out by an acquaintance who is 
in business in Lorenzo Marques. Our friend takes 
a party of nine from the steamer out in his little 
steam launch. Sailing farther up the inlet, we come 
to a place where three rivers branch off. Choosing 
one of these, the Umvilosi, we sail along it for an 



166 SOUTH AFRICA AND THE EAST COAST 

hour or more. There is little of interest to be seen; 
the river banks are low and thickly covered with small 
trees and underbrush, all of which are nearly under 
water when the tide raises the river's level twelve 
feet. It is strange that trees will grow in this salt 
water; yet they do, and it is said that the wood from 
these trees is so solid and heavy that it will sink in 
water. ; I 

Several miles from town, and near the river, is an 
old abandoned flouring mill and elevator, represent- 
ing several thousand pounds sterling lost in a vain 
enterprise. This is the only sign of civilization that 
we see on this excursion, except a few native tents 
grouped together in one spot, the land all about the 
river being one vast swamp. On Our homeward sail, 
our host serves afternoon tea to his guests; we have 
tea, lemonade, biscuit (crackers) of various kinds, 
and some very nice English sweets (candy) , imported 
from London. 

Our last evening at Lorenzo Marques is passed on 
shore, only a few blocks away from the ship. The 
town's military band is giving an open-air concert 
in the square; and a very pretty square it is, too, 
surrounded on all four sides by shops and hotels. 
There are flower beds, tropical plants and trees, rus- 
tic benches, and stone walks in mosaic patterns. We 
take chairs at a cafe table, where we order lemonade 
and cake. We enjoy the music; also, it is interesting 
to see the citizens of the town as they sit grouped 



LOREXZO MARQUES 167 

about us. We have come prepared to remain in the 
square all the evening, but there are too many strange 
flying creatures here for comfort. Some belong to 
the beetle family, but they are as large as bats. One 
can easily brush off a fly or even a beetle, but close 
contact with anything larger is very unpleasant. 
Consequently we hurry back to the ship, where we 
are sure of finding no winged insects larger than a 
mosquito. 

Before sailing time the next morning, the num- 
ber of passengers on board our vessel is greatly 
increased by the arrival of the Johannesburg train. 
From now on very little change will take place in 
the passenger list, for comparatively few people will 
embark or depart. On the eve of our departure from 
Lorenzo Marques, we are reminded that it was from 
this port President Kruger sailed for Europe, after 
his flight from the Transvaal, the border of which 
colony is but fifty-six miles away. A Portuguese 
railway line runs to this border, where it connects 
with the line to Johannesburg and Pretoria. 



BEIRA 

The morning of the third day out from Lorenzo 
Marques gives us a new experience; our ship sticks 
fast on a sand-bar, and here we have to remain until 
the tide helps us to move over it and so on into the 
harbor at Beira. We are scarcely anchored a short 
distance from the town, when natives in rowboats 
swarm around our ship, seeking passengers who wish 
to go ashore. Beira is a comparatively small town, 
having a population of 1,000 whites and 3,000 natives. 
It is a Portuguese port, and very unattractive. Its 
streets and roads are like the seashore, so sandy that 
one sinks ankle-deep in attempting to walk about. 
We think Beira, meaning "The Sand," a most appro- 
priate name for the place. The inhabitants, realizing 
the inconvenience of the sand, have paved the prin- 
cipal streets with concrete. 

Running all over the town is a tiny railway; each 
man owns his private car, which is large enough 
to hold but two persons. The motive power is fur- 
nished by a native boy, who pushes the car from 
behind. Rickshaws are impossible on these sandy 
roads; hence the street railway. 

The night in Beira is a noisy one, for the natives 
keep up a weird chant all the while they are helping 
with the unloading of the freight, which, begun in 
the morning, continues long after midnight. At ten 
o'clock the next morning our ship lifts anchor, and 
we are off once again. 



CHINDE 

Earlier on our voyage, while on a railway journey 
up into the interior, we looked anxiously forward to 
our first glimpse of the great Zambesi River, so 
famous in the history of the Dark Continent; now 
we are soon to see the delta of this mighty stream, 
at which the town of Chinde is situated. But because 
of the big sand-bars made by the river, we can not 
go very close to the town, and there is no oppor- 
tunity to go ashore for sight-seeing. It takes the 
Chinde-Bar steamer two and a half hours from the 
time we anchor to sail out to us; she brings a few 
passengers and takes back several from our ship. 

Chinde is the point from which people start out 
for the interior of Africa ; they may be going as mis- 
sionaries, government officials, or traders. Of the 
little company bidding us good-by, some may be say- 
ing a last farewell to civilization, for there are always 
those who never return. The transfer of passengers 
here in the harbor is effected by means of the basket. 
Those who have never been swung over in the basket 
look on in silent wonder, but probably no one of them 
would care to ride in it himself. At last the passen- 
gers and luggage are all safely exchanged, and the 
little boat moves off, her passengers waving us fare- 
well, while our ship's orchestra strikes up its music, 
to add cheerfulness to the parting. 

Some of us are more interested in the new arrivals 



170 SOUTH AFRICA AND THE EAST COAST 

than in any other passengers taken on since we left 
Cape Town. We feel sure they are from distant 
regions, and what tales of adventure they must have 
stored away in their memories! These new people 
all look too tired to be plied with immediate ques- 
tions, so we wait a day before making their acquaint- 
ance. True to our guess, they have indeed interesting 
tales to relate. One man, a trader from Central 
Africa, tells how he once accidentally shot and killed 
one of his native boys; he gave the bereaved family 
a pound note (equal to about five dollars), which 
satisfied them so completely that nothing further was 
ever heard of the affair. 

A British tax collector who with his wife and nine- 
months-old baby embarked at Chinde, traveled five 
hundred miles overland to reach that place. The 
journey, consuming several months, was made partly 
by boat on rivers, but mostly by machila, a sort of 
hammock carried on the shoulders of natives. A 
small family like this one would need seventy car- 
riers on a journey of five hundred miles, for luggage 
and food are necessarily very heavy. In rapid trav- 
eling such a party can make thirty miles a day. 



MOZAMBIQUE 

There seems to be some excitement on the lower 
deck ; every one is running to see what it can be. Our 
ship carries three classes of regular passengers, and 
a fourth class called "deck passengers." This last 
class lives entirely out-of-doors on one of the lower 
decks; their luggage is piled up there, and at night 
they sleep on it. One of these black passengers has 
an upholstered couch-bed ; inside it are all his worldly 
possessions, as we have seen, for he has opened it 
upon several occasions. He is the only one down 
there who has the luxury of a real bed, but probably 
he does not appreciate it. Many of the natives are 
used to sleeping out-of-doors, and they must feel that 
the awning overhead is luxury enough. 

There is a remarkable mixture of peoples in the 
fourth class, a study in itself for the ethnologist. 
There could not have been more confusion at the 
Tower of Babel than there is on this lower deck. 
Here there are almost as many different races as 
there are individuals, and as we look down over the 
railing of the upper deck, it seems to us to be one 
grand mix-up of languages and people. 

The cause of the present commotion is a stalwart 
black, who might be a Zulu chief, clad in his national 
garb, the loin cloth. He has been working in the 
Johannesburg mines, and is now going home to spend 
the rest of his days in ease and luxury, for he con- 



172 SOUTH AFRICA AND THE EAST COAST 

siders himself a wealthy gentleman. Some of his 
earnings were freely spent in the great city, where 
civilization offers many temptations to the simple 
black man; bright and gaudy things fascinate him, 
and he loves to imitate the white man in manner of 
dress as well as in other ways. 

This Zulu now pulls forth from the chaotic pile 
of luggage a good-sized square-topped trunk. Tak- 




ZULUS AT DINNER 



ing out a key from some secret place, he kneels down 
with pride before his trunk; less fortunate compan- 
ions stand by him as he surveys its wonderful con- 
tents. Slowly and carefully he lifts out a white 
laundered shirt; holding this in all possible posi- 
tions, he eyes it critically. But looking at a shirt 
and trying to put it on are two very different things ; 
he does not know one end from the other, and as 



MOZAMBIQUE 



173 



#i I * 




GOVERNMENT BUILDINGS AT MOZAMBIQUE 



bad luck has it, he puts his head in through the neck 
first. Not succeeding by this method, he next puts 
his feet in through the neck, and pulls the shirt up 
where it belongs, whereupon his friends applaud 
him. Thus arrayed, he kneels down again and peers 
cautiously into his trunk. Standing up, he shakes 
out a pair of "hand-me-down" trousers, which causes 
him about as much anxiety as the shirt, but in the 
end he is once more successful. A third haul from 
the trunk finds him with a pair of tan socks in each 
hand, both pairs exactly alike. One pair of socks 
is then put upon each foot. Next follow light tan 
shoes, a stiff standing collar, and a blue coat with 
brass buttons, evidently once owned by some official. 



174 SOUTH AFRICA AND THE EAST COAST 

By this time everybody is excited, for the ship has 
weighed anchor, and some are ready to disembark. 
Hurriedly the Zulu dons a soft gray felt hat, and 
putting a silver-handled umbrella under his arm, he 
locks his trunk, which two of his companions lift up 
and carry for him. Already the ship is surrounded 
by natives in little boats, clamoring for passengers. 
Landing at a long pier, we see ahead of us the Zulu 
passenger being met by friends, who take his trunk 
and assist in carrying the umbrella, which latter soon 
becomes the center of attraction. 

The returning black man is no more an object of 
curiosity than the ship's first-class passengers, and we 
are soon surrounded by a good-sized crowd of dark 
people — boys and small children — who follow us, not 
necessarily begging, but just trotting along, jabber- 
ing in their strange tongue. This is the island of 
Mozambique, entirely covered by the town, which 
one can easily traverse in two hours' time. The tow T n 
is truly picturesque, with its very irregular streets, 
some broad, others narrowing down into mere pas- 
sageways, and all remarkably clean. The houses are 
generally very low, with flat-tiled roofs ; the windows 
are deep-set, and have shutters which protect the 
occupants from the fierce rays of the sun. Along 
the streets are many cocoanut palms, which afford 
little shade, but serve rather as ornamentation. 

The hospital, a very fine building, is set in beau- 
tiful grounds, filled with cocoanut palms and bloom- 



MOZAMBIQUE 175 

ing oleanders. This is a modern structure, as is the 
pretty Catholic church. About two hundred and 
fifty years ago, before the slave trade was abolished, 
Mozambique was a flourishing place; but today not 
even a hotel exists there, and many of the larger 
houses are standing vacant. 

Prisoners are everywhere to be seen, and half the 
workmen walk with ball and chain. A stranger, un- 
acquainted with Portuguese methods, little suspects 
that the haughty officials who hold high positions on 
the island may be political offenders from the mother 
country; yet such is the case, for Portugal does not 
exercise capital punishment, she exiles her convicts 
instead. Whether the sentence is for life or for a 
term of years, an exile's fate may seem more desir- 
able and less dishonorable than a prison cell in Lis- 
bon. Mozambique guards her prisoners by impass- 
able waters and weighs them down with oppressive 
and intolerable heat. 

An old fort stands guard at one end of the island; 
its ancient walls and battlements attract visitors. Its 
large gate stands invitingly open, and through it one 
enters a great open court, whence a staircase leads up- 
ward. Ascending to the top of these stairs, we 
find a guide waiting to show visitors about, and 
proudly he does his duty. There are queer old rusty 
cannon placed at intervals around the walls of the 
fort ; they are only seven or eight feet long, mounted 
on wooden carriages, and most primitive looking 



176 SOUTH AFRICA AND THE EAST COAST 

affairs. But the Portuguese guide explains earnestly 
how a match applied to the little pinch of powder 
would do terrible execution were the cannon loaded 
up with the iron croquet balls which stand in a little 
pyramid just behind each one. 

One modern gunboat could blow the old walls of 
the fort and the toy cannon out of existence in a 
moment, but our guide knows nothing about things 
modern, least of all gunboats. We can not bear to 
destroy his happy confidence and pride in his array 
of rusty cannon, each with its pinch of powder ready 
for ignition; nor do we wish to rob him of his feel- 
ing of perfect security within the old yellow walls, 
crumbling with age. There are many prisoners 
within these walls; probably some are descendants 
of those early fortune-seekers who seized the island 
and pressed into servitude the native princes of Mo- 
zambique. On top of the fort, in the midst of the 
old relics of ancient warfare, is a beautiful tropical 
garden, picking a great bunch of various kinds of 
flowers, the guide gives a bouquet to each visitor, re- 
ceiving in return a small fee, which pleases him very 
much. 

Leaving the fort behind us, we walk back into the 
town. Rustic seats and benches are everywhere to 
be found, and gladly we choose one for a resting- 
place, for even at seven o'clock in the morning the 
heat from the sun is intense. A number of little 
black children line up in front of us, and bowing 



MOZAMBIQUE 177 

very low and gracefully, they hold out tiny begging 
hands; they are bright and intelligent looking and 
ought to be doing something better than begging. 
Grown boys and men walk by slowly, looking very 
stately in their long, loose white garments, not unlike 
a man's nightshirt in cut. 

Now a boy approaches, offering to sell his pet 
Madagascar cat. The cat is a funny little animal, 
a cross between a monkey and a squirrel; he has the 
cunning features of both, a furry tail of some length, 
and a pathetic little face, almost human because of 
the big brown eyes. His tiny baby hands are clasp- 
ing his beloved mango, while he takes the daintiest 
bites with his sharp white teeth around the great hard 
kernel. He seems to be the only creature that can 
eat a mango daintily. 

We next visit a shop, where we try to buy photo- 
graphs. The shopkeeper has a few post-cards, but 
no photographs; he says it is impossible to make 
pictures in Mozambique, because there is no ice there, 
and the water is too warm to develop the negatives. 
Thus we are forced to go out and take our own 
photographs. Looking about, we see a good sub- 
ject for a picture; three fine-looking women of splen- 
did poise are coming along with great jars of water 
on their heads. They are most picturesque as we 
see them in the avenue of cocoanut palms. We 
quickly focus a camera, but before we can press the 
bulb, the three women are fleeing with screams of 



178 



SOUTH AFliICA AND THE EAST COAST 




THE MADAGASCAR OX AND HIS DRIVER 

terror. From behind distant trees they look at us, 
laughing at our discomfiture. Their jars, meanwhile, 
remain in perfect equilibrium, much to our surprise. 
Disappointed in this undertaking, we fold up our 
camera and continue our walk. We meet a boy with 
another strange little animal for sale — a mongoose, 
it is called. This pet the boy parts with for a shilling, 
and the buyer carries it away in his pocket. The 
mongoose is about as large as a rat, and not unlike 
a rat in appearance ; in his native haunts he is a snake 
killer, but when tamed is as nice a pet as a squirrel. 
The natives keep these animals as pets, to drive away 
reptiles and other vermin from their dwellings. The 



MOZAMBIQUE 179 

mongoose is such a fierce looking little animal that 
only a very brave cat would dare to attack him. 

Returning to the pier, we see a curious cart drawn 
by a strange looking animal. The driver of this 
Madagascar ox — for such he is called — is transfer- 
ring his load to a small boat. Obtaining the driver's 
permission by means of pantomime, we take a snap- 
shot of him and his beast. The ox, a large brother 
of the mysterious gnu, with a useless great camel 
hump on his back, looks as though he ought to be 
traveling with a circus, instead of plodding along 
a highway, attached to a big awkward cart on two 
equally awkward wheels. 

On the pier one may buy souvenirs, to be chosen 
from a collection of sea-curios — lovely sprays of red 
and white coral, just as it is brought up from the 
sea, red starfish, and tortoise shells large enough for 
a baby's cradle. Then there are smaller shells of 
every sort and color, and beautifully polished conches, 
which, put to one's ear, moan softly and sadly a har- 
mony suggestive of the desolation and deathly 
grandeur of Mozambique. 

If one remains on the island until daylight fades 
into twilight, the big steamer out in the harbor, bril- 
liantly lighted, seems a welcome haven of refuge 
from the shore, where dim lanterns light up the 
streets, making everything in them shadowy and 
mysterious. Of course nobody is afraid, but the 
empty palaces and 1 warehouses, and the closed hotels 



180 SOUTH AFRICA AND THE EAST COAST 

make the bare thought of being left behind on the 
island anything but pleasant. Where would one go 
in case of such an emergency? Not wishing to 
answer this question from actual experience, we take 
the first little boat that offers to carry us back to 
the steamer. 

To one who enjoys bartering and quarreling a 
journey up the East Coast of Africa offers every 
opportunity for just such pleasure and recreation. 
You are on land and wish to return to your ship — 
a simple enough proceeding, for a score of native 
boats is at hand, ready to convey you there. But the 
moment you signify your intention to take a boat, a 
dozen native boatmen swoop down on you like a 
dozen hawks after one poor little chicken. So, be- 
wildered and confused, you climb into the nearest 
boat, and immediately the haggling begins. The 
native pushes off, several assistants manage the sail, 
and all the while the collector is demanding a fee, 
which you insist shall not be paid until the journey's 
end. Before this argument has reached a conclusion, 
you have come up to the ship. The great lighted 
vessel seems to hold out its arms to you. Jumping 
from the dhow, you land fairly and squarely on the 
swinging staircase, and turn round to give to the 
native boatman the usual fee of a sixpence. "No," 
must be sharply said three times, at each demand for 
more pay — and now that you are home again — that 
is, among friends — you do not care if the boatman 



MOZAMBIQUE 181 

does make remarks in an unknown language, though 
he pays you anything but compliments on your 
generosity. 

From the steamer's protecting railing, you take a 
last look at the Arab dhows, dotted about the harbor. 
These curious little sailboats skim like swift swal- 
lows over the calm sea. No wonder that the slave 
traders could steal their slaves and be off with them 
before the rest of the tribe could prepare for pur- 
suit! The only life of the Arab dhows now, and of 
the small canoes, is the far less exciting occupation 
of bringing out to the big ship their thefts from 
the sea caves. The master of the dhow is a com- 
manding figure with a white drapery around his black 
loins, and a white turban protecting his head. 

Mozambique has a history; she was not always a 
picturesque line of adobe houses of white, pink, and 
brown, set against a clear sky and cocoanut palms 
merely to gladden the tourist's eye. She was once a 
welcome port to merchant vessels on their way to 
India, and a port well worth fortifying. In 1497, 
when Vasco da Gama passed around Africa, he 
sailed up the East Coast as far as Mozambique, where 
he found pilots from Arabia, and thence he crossed 
to India. He then and there set the Portuguese seal 
upon the island, so its history, as far as European 
interest is concerned, is almost as old as that of San 
Salvador. 



ZANZIBAR 

A day under an equatorial sun which seems to fill 
the whole sky, a night under the cool white tropical 
moon, and we wake up anchored in the wide harbor 
of Zanzibar. 

Voices of children, shouting incoherent words, 
greet us before we can get on deck. It is the same 
call that has welcomed us all along the way: "Throw 
something! Throw something !" The porthole frames 
a picture for a post-card — a miniature canoe and in 
it two of the liveliest of little black water sprites. A 
coin is thrown from the upper deck and the water 
babies spring into the sea. They come up fighting 
the waves and splashing in glee, one showing between 
his white teeth the recovered sixpence. The capsized 
canoe is righted, the divers climb into it, and after 
spluttering a few minutes to get the water out of 
ears and nose, they begin again the insistent call: 
"Throw something! Throw something!" 

The Zanzibar merchants spread out on the ship's 
deck the most alluring display — woven mats, carved 
ivory, sandalwood, beaten silver, post-cards, and pho- 
tographs. Below, in the canoes that surround the 
steamer, gleaming shells and trays of fruit are dis- 
played. The owners of the old slave dhows are 
clamoring to take passengers ashore. It is only 
within the last ten years that they have been obliged 
to give up their traffic in humanity. One almost 
pities the adventurous pirate captains who have been 



ZANZIBAR 



183 




THE SULTAN ALI AND HIS MINISTERS 



forced to descend to the commonplace occupation of 
taking arrogant Europeans a few hundred feet, in 
a boat that has gone scudding like the wind before 
rescuers, or other pirates, who pursued. 

Besides the dhow there is another reminder of Zan- 
zibar's slavery days. In the heart of the city is a 
large plaza — the slave market. The iron hitching- 
posts and the chains that held human victims captive 
until the time of sale, have not yet rusted, for the 
English have held possession of Zanzibar, and slav- 
ery has been banished, hardly a dozen years. 

Although the British actually rule this island, in 



184 SOUTH AFRICA AND THE EAST COAST 

theory it is the domain of an oriental potentate, the 
Sultan Ali. In 1890 Great Britain declared a pro- 
tectorate over Zanzibar. A certain Khalid attempted 
a usurpation in 1896, and the city was bombarded 
by the British fleet. The result was what one might 
naturally expect; in a few moments the palace was 
blown to pieces, and the little kingdom surrendered. 
Khalid fled to German East Africa. The youthful 
Ali, the present sultan, was put upon the throne; 
after a few weeks he was taken off again and sent to 
England to be educated, to be brought back later and 
reseated among British ministers, who assist him in 
governing. His English advisers relieve him of all 
labor and all financial worry, paying him some sev- 
enty thousand dollars a year for the rent of certain 
of his lands. In the harbor of Zanzibar his whole 
fleet has been safely anchored by the British at the 
bottom of the sea. The mast of his largest vessel 
may still be seen projecting some thirty feet above 
the surface of the water like a threatening rod, as a 
warning that what has once happened to a sultan in 
way of punishment may happen again. 

The palace of the former sultan was wrecked dur- 
ing the bombardment, and the new building is as 
ugly a modern edifice as human skill could devise — 
a gingerbread house with many galleries, at the right 
of which stands a tall steel electric tower. When 
night comes on, hiding the ugly decorations and harsh 
outlines of the palace, when the many rows of elec- 



ZANZIBAR 



185 



trie lights that line the balconies are lit, and soft 
strains of music float from the palace seaward, 
it would seem that Aladdin's enchantment had 
set this brilliant palace by the sea. Within 
its magic casements is fairyland indeed. The 
oriental court, with the great stairways leading 




THE SULTAN'S PALACE AT ZANZIBAR 

to the upper balconies where the three wives of the 
sultan have their apartments, the beautiful Turkish 
rugs, the Arabian arabesques and inscriptions, the 
glittering chandeliers, the servants in rich livery — 
all this splendor offers the sultan some compensation 
for what he has lost, if luxury can ever compensate 
for lost power. 



186 



SOUTH AFRICA AND THE EAST COAST 



T h e landing 
at Zanzibar is 
more exciting 
than dignified. 
The small boats 
strike bottom on 
the shelving 
beach some dis- 
tance from the 
shore, and the 
remaining few 
feet are accom- 
plished pick-a- 
b a ck. These 
obliging swarthy 
cavaliers do not 
scorn the pen- 
nies with which 
one rewards 
their gallantry. 
The next ordeal 
is to choose a 
guide from the 
many who wave 
in the face of the tourists their much crumpled 
credentials. A guide is not necessary, but who 
could resist the boy who implores: " Read! [Read! " 
beaming with delight at the pleasure every one 
seems to take in scanning his recommendation: 





• ^BNtiEJI 



ONE OF THE NARROW STREETS 



ZANZIBAK 187 

"This is Snowball; he is not much worse than 
the others." 

The narrow streets of Zanzibar are as interesting 
as the corridors of the Pitti Palace or the halls of the 
Vatican. Zanzibar has not deliberately collected any- 
thing to interest anybody; it simply is, and that is 
enough. The art treasures of Europe are out of 
their proper setting; if the madonnas were looking 
down from the high altar of some old church instead 
of from a gilded frame in a gallery, or if the Elgin 
marbles were under the light of southern skies in- 
stead of in the gray haze of London, one would have 
the sense of enjoyment that is felt only when the works 
of man blend with their surroundings as in Zanzibar. 

The island is in itself one continuous picture — a 
mass o*f vivid coloring in the country, with its clove 
orchards, flamboyant trees, and groves of cocoanut 
palms; while the city reminds one of a pastel in 
black and white. 

Everywhere are darkly shadowed, narrow streets, 
and in the small open squares at the end of these are 
patches of white where the sand reflects the almost 
painful brilliance of the merciless African sun. The 
swarthy native, the Swahili, who boasts of his Arab 
descent, but who appears to be very closely related 
to his kinsmen on the mainland of Africa, looks as 
black as night in contrast with his snowy linen robe 
and white embroidered cap. The white walls of the 
old Moorish buildings that line the thoroughfares 



.188 



SOUTH AFRICA AND THE EAST COAST 



of the city 
serve as an ef- 
fective fram- 
ing for the 
wonderfully 
carved teak 
and ebony 
doors that are 
the chief 
beauty of 
Zanzibar. 

These pieces 
of heavy carv- 
ing sh o u 1 d 
not be called 
"doors," but 
pictures, rath- 
er, so rich are 
they in orien- 
tal fantasy. 
Sometimesthe 
design takes 
the form of ar- 
tistically in- 
terwoven Ara- 
bic letters, that give to the visitor who can read the 
sacred book some sentence from the Koran for his 
soul's good. Sometimes the door is of heavy teak 
panels, metal-studded and framed in carved ebony. 




A CARVED DOOR AND A PAIR OF TUSKS 



ZANZIBAR 



189 




*•.-"" 



UNDER ZANZIBAR'S SERENELY CLOUDLESS SKY 

In Zanzibar the door is the finishing touch of all 
that is strange and mysterious. It swings open and 
women whose faces are not more darkly veiled from 
us than their lives, follow silent, stern-looking serv- 
ants into the narrow streets, to disappear again be- 
hind a door equally mysterious. Everywhere are 
overhanging, closely latticed balconies, where, we are 
told, the women of the household come to seek a 
breath of air during the days of a summer and a 
winter almost equally hot and sultry. Here they may 
sit year in and year out, waiting for time to pass, 
watching the street life below, through the tiny 



190 SOUTH AFRICA AND THE EAST COAST 

openings in the latticework. Perhaps they are not so 
unhappy as we imagine, and it may be that among 
friends who have come to an afternoon coffee party 
some of them are at this moment pitying us in our 
stiff European clothes, fighting against their climate 
with fan and parasol. They may be laughing at our 
hurried scampering, when without a minute's warn- 
ing, a cloud bursts over our heads, letting down not 
rain but a veritable deluge. 

For an hour we gaze into the deserted street from 
what seems a submarine window in the hotel. When 
we issue into the street again the sky is serenely 
cloudless, and were it not for the few pools of water 
under foot we should believe the sudden downpour 
a dream. Because of the frequent rainfall and the 
subsequent intense heat, the whole land steams, and 
fever is the usual accompaniment of the continual 
vapor bath. 

Alternating sun and shower may not agree with 
transplanted humanity, but the fruits and flowers 
of the island are of wonderful luxuriance and per- 
fection. The fruit market is an immense shed filled 
with a tempting display of trays and baskets in which 
are heaped oranges, pineapples, bananas, lemons, 
jack- fruit, mangoes, cocoanuts, betel nuts and many 
varieties of strange tropical fruits, the names of 
which are unknown to us. Near each mound the 
seller is stationed; very often the companion by his 
side is a very diminutive white donkey which has car- 



ZANZIBAR 191 

ried the panniers of fruit that morning across the 
island. 

A journey the length or breadth of the island of 
Zanzibar is not a very long one, for it is only about 
fifty miles from north to south and fifteen miles 
across. Yet this little crescent of land supports a 




THE ENGLISH CONSULATE AT ZANZIBAR 
In the background the American Consulate 

population of nearly a quarter of a million, 100,000 
living in the city of Zanzibar. 

Three steamship lines of equal length, each 2,400 
miles long, radiate from Zanzibar to Suez, Cape 
Town, and Southern India. The exports of the island 
amount to many millions in value, and are chiefly 
copra, rubber, ivory, and cloves. Cloves are the prin- 
cipal source of wealth; no plant is more limited with 
regard to its geographical distribution, the Moluccas 
and Zanzibar producing the world's supply of this 
spice. 



192 SOUTH AFRICA AND THE EAST COAST 

The clove grows to the height of an ordinary cherry 
tree and resembles a laurel in shape. The tree rises 
four or five feet before it throws out its branches. 
The flowers grow in small bunches upon branched 
peduncles at the extremity of the boughs, and are at 
first a peach-blossom pink. The long calyx of the 
flower holds the seed vessel. The corolla fades in 
iime; the calyx changes its color first to yellow, and 
then to a darker red. The calyx and the undeveloped 
seed form the clove of commerce. 

The clove must be picked as soon as it is ripe, or 
else the seed will enlarge and the pungent properties 
be lost. Cloths are spread on the ground, and the 
clusters which can not be picked by hand are pulled 
off very carefully with crooked sticks. The cloves 
are then placed in bundles and smoked for days; 
afterward they are dried in the sun, which darkens 
them further. 

The cloves that drop off between picking seasons 
are left to dry in the sun and can be recognized by 
their shriveled appearance. A tree may yield as 
many as one thousand pounds, but the average yield 
is not more than five pounds to a tree. The trees 
begin to bear after the eighth year and live from 
eighty to one hundred and fifty years. 

In between the clove trees the cocoanut palms are 
planted about twenty-five feet apart. These trees 
also bear in their eighth year, but four times annually, 
and from two hundred to three hundred nuts a year. 



ZANZIBAR 



193 



The handsome betel nut palm is cultivated in small 
clumps around the house, perhaps so the whole family 
can get their supply of gum without undue effort. 
Betel chewing is certainly not pleasing to behold, 
but it is no less attractive to the observer than is the 




THE OLD QUARTER OF THE CITY 

gum or the tobacco habit common in countries sup- 
posed to be civilized. 

The banana, jack- fruit, and mango trees are seen 
along the driveway, and occasionally a cinnamon tree 
or a nutmeg twenty feet high. 

It is a day's drive to the town of Chuaka on the 
opposite side of the island. Clove orchards, cocoanut 



194 SOUTH AFRICA AND. THE EAST COAST 

groves and mango trees canopy the road. The scene 
is all life and color : the women in gay drapery come 
swinging along with baskets of fruit on their heads; 
children are playing before the brown huts in the 
openings; the thick foliage of the tree almost hides 
the clove gatherer and his ladder; piles of shining 
cocoanuts mark the places where the native boys are 
at work in mid-air. The breeze from the sea wafts 
from the clove orchards a fragrance like that of a 
garden of pinks, for even the leaves and bark partake 
of the pungent odor of the bud. 

The crushed brown particles of the cloves, that 
cover the floors of the big warehouse where hundreds 
of sacks are stored, give forth the same delightful 
fragrance. Near by is the warehouse for the copra, 
a name given to the green, partially dried cocoanut, 
which is sent to Marseilles, where its oil serves to man- 
ufacture many things, from soap to "pure olive oil." 
The heaps of precious elephant tusks are kept under 
lock and key, for a small roomful represents a great 
fortune. 

The souvenir hunter becomes hopelessly impover- 
ished in the ivory shops of Zanzibar. Those who can 
"resist everything but temptation" should not look 
at the fascinating displays in these bazaars. One 
excuses oneself on the ground that such tempting 
bargains are to be found nowhere else in the world. 
There are hand-carved sandalwood and silver; hand- 
woven mats and divan covers; oriental slippers and 



ZANZIBAR 195 

fans; and, above all, ivory in every shape and form, 
from a plain cigarette holder to the most elaborate 
jewel box. 

That it is possible to carve articles of considerable 
size from a single piece of ivory is evident from the 
two tusks photographed between two stalwart men 
to show the comparative size of the tusks. They are 
frequently ten feet in length and several times 
greater in circumference than the neck of an ordinary 
man. Such a pair is worth four or five hundred dol- 
lars, for the demand for billiard balls is a constant 
one and always greater than the supply, and so the 
price of ivory continually advances. The elephant, 
monarch of the forests beyond on the mainland, in- 
creases in stature year after year, only that he may 
finally be able to present a fitting offering to the bil- 
liard table. No wonder that he rebelliously beats a 
retreat deeper and deeper into the forests, rather than 
come to so unworthy an end! 

All of Africa imports the necessities of life and 
supplies the world with luxuries. South Africa would 
be poor indeed were it not for gold, diamonds, and 
ostrich feathers; and East Africa derives its wealth 
from such unnecessary supplies as cloves, nuts, and 
spices. 

The East Coast natives seem to need very few of 
either the necessities or luxuries of life. A white 
gown suffices for the men, a gaudy drapery for the 
women, and as little work as possible satisfies both. 



196 



SOUTH AFRICA AND THE EAST COAST 



For gala attire the men and women expend their 
energy in decorating the enlarged lobe of the ear 
with metal disks or rolls of bright paper, and stud- 
ding with gold 
or jewels the 
pierced upper 
lip and nos- 
trils. The 
Swahili wom- 
en wear a 
ruffle around 
their ankles, 
which, com- 
bined with 
their queer 
costume, pro- 
duces the ef- 
f e c t of a 
clumsy buff 
cochin - china 
hen. The hair 
is sometimes 
done in fanci- 
ful designs, 
the favorite 
device being a hundred rows of tiny braids woven 
close to the head, that have the appearance of the 
even furrows of a garden. 

The children who carry the tiny cups of coffee 




A SWAHILI WOMAN 



ZANZIBAR 197 

around the fruit market for a penny a cup, or who 
play in the shaded alleys, seem the most care-free 
of little animals. A fairly large number are gath- 
ered into the interesting Church of England Mission 
School, where a number of devoted men and women 
sacrifice health and strength, in order to show this 
people a better way of living. 

Besides the mission school, another witness to the 
labors of the English Church is the fine cathedral. 
There are several other really splendid types of archi- 
tecture in the heart of the city, one of the finest being 
the castle of the regent, the attractiveness of which 
is enhanced by the beautiful gardens surrounding it. 

There is a world of interest connected with this 
"city of doors," and the mail boat's stay of three 
days, the passengers agree, is all too short. "The 
fever will get you if you don't look out," the boat's 
crew assure us, but we are not convinced. Whether 
we are convinced or not, in two hours the ship sails, 
so there is time for just one more dinner under the 
"punka." The silent Arab boy sits against the wall 
and waves this big fan attached to the ceiling, to and 
fro, while we dine on the favorite dish of the island 
— a delicious mixture of shrimp and shredded cocoa- 
nut, so hot with curry that it is an appropriate viand 
to have set before us on leaving Zanzibar, for we 
eat it with tears in our eyes. 



DAR-ES-SALAAM 

The Arabs who founded the settlements along the 
eastern coast of Africa, gave their towns names so 
musical and so appropriate that one feels no others 
would have been possible. What else could Zanzibar 
mean but "Paradise" ? Never do we realize the fitness 
of its name so fully as when we see this Garden of 
Eden in the distance and its gates closing behind 
us. Before we realize all we have lost, a still lovelier 
haven comes in view — "The Abode of Peace," 
Dar-es- Salaam. 

No flaming sword could be more dazzling than this 
red sunset toward which we move. Later when it 
turns to glowing bronze, the sky becomes a splendid 
background for the tall cocoanut palms, the cream 
adobe buildings and the dark wildness of the tropical 
foliage. From the first glimpse to the last, Dar-es- 
Salaam is the finest gem of the many rich settlements 
that, linked together by the network of commerce, 
encircle Africa. 

Although Zanzibar is farther north than Dar-es- 
Salaam, the mail steamer makes straight for the more 
northern point, and afterward takes the side trip 
forty miles south to Dar-es- Salaam. It is necessary 
to reach Zanzibar as soon as possible, not only be- 
cause it is the most populous and the most important 
city on the East Coast, but also because ships bound 
for the Far East touch at Zanzibar and await there 

198 



DAR-ES-SALAAM 



199 




A TYPICAL RESIDENCE OF DAR-ES-SALAAM 



the transference of mail, cargo and passengers en 
route from Africa to India. Moreover, a ship may 
come to anchor in the broad harbor of Zanzibar at 
any time, but it must thread the narrow passage lead- 
ing to Dar-es- Salaam in broad daylight. By spend- 
ing the night at Zanzibar, the large mail steamers 
make sure of entering the winding channel in the 
daytime. 

The journey from the domain of the sultan to the 
territory of the Kaiser is a short one. At two in the 
afternoon our vessel steams out of the broad harbor 
of Zanzibar; before dark she is carefully threading 



200 SOUTH AFRICA AND THE EAST COAST 

her way along the crooked channel that opens into 
the expanse of sea before Dar-es- Salaam. The colo- 
nies of so many nations lie along the "Cape to Cairo" 
route that at a moment's notice we change like a 
garment allegiance, flag, laws, and language. In 
South Africa one is impressed with the fact that no 
country has the monopoly of good government, enter- 
prise, and hospitality. 

German East Africa is bounded on the south by 
the Portuguese territory of Mozambique. British 
East Africa, the Sultanate of Zanzibar, and the 
Italian desert of Somaliland lie toward the north. 
While Germany may not have had it in mind to 
excel all the other nations in making her capital the 
most attractive spot along the East Coast, neverthe- 
less Dar-es-Salaam is unquestionably this. 

Each colony passed has its own interesting history; 
every seaport has some particular claim to distinc- 
tion. Many of the towns are larger and more im- 
portant commercially than Dar-es-Salaam, but if this 
center of trade can not furnish a boatload of cloves, 
which are the chief source of wealth at Zanzibar, nor 
the millions of peanuts which are heaped in the hold 
at Mombasa, it at least gives the traveler a permanent 
possession in the picture of surpassing loveliness the 
very name recalls. 

Here no ugly sultan's palace mars the line of the 
water front. The very old and the very new in archi- 
tecture jostle each other, but there is no discord. 



DAR-ES-SALAAM 



201 



The modern building* in Dar-es- Salaam has been 
complete, substantial, perfect. 

The greater part of this interesting town has been 
built since 1900; the old quarter dates back to nobody 
knows when. As a result Dar-es- Salaam presents a 




THE NATIVE QUARTER 



scene of striking contrasts. At one end of a long 
street is the most modern of modern villages; at the 
other end the most primitive of native settlements. 

The picturesque element is lost sight of the next 
morning in the stir and activity that follow our closer 
approach to the shore. It is evident that we are a 



202 SOUTH AFRICA AND THE EAST COAST 

German boat nearing a German colony, and that the 
arrival of the mail and contact with the outer world 
are events in the colonist's life as infrequent as they 
are desirable. All at once boats dart upon us from 
every direction; Germans are on the ship's ladder 
greeting German officers; the natives in their canoes 
quarrel with one another for the first place and dra- 
matically entreat us to land; there is a veritable con- 
fusion of tongues. 

Every one responds to the first call to breakfast, 
eager to go ashore. For sixpence we are rowed to 
the landing, for a shilling we have a rickshaw at our 
disposal for an hour and a half. We exclaim at 
every turning, for Dar-es- Salaam is a city of sur- 
prises. Who would expect to find hidden away in 
this comparatively unknown corner of the world such 
beautiful homes, a model hospital, fine churches, the 
most ideal of hotels, and every official, from the high- 
est to the lowest, a genial host for the whole town? 

Dar-es- Salaam shows what may be accomplished 
when there is plenty of room, plenty of labor, and 
the leisure deliberately to plan a city. Every public 
building seems devised for its utility. The architect 
has had to keep two things in mind: houses must 
be artistic, and it must be cool, if Europeans are to 
keep alive in this torrid region. So the thick walls 
of cream adobe are built to defy the sun — and, it 
would seem, to defy time as well. The lower floors 
are invitingly cool, with their deep Moorish arcades 



DAR-ES-SALAAM 



203 




ONE OF THE COOL, ARTISTIC HOMES 

and wide verandas. Above, the balconies are shaded 
by the far-overhanging roof. Through the covered 
towers the four Avinds of heaven may blow, and here, 
fanned by the fitful breezes of the Indian Ocean, the 
sleeper can finish his restless night. 

Never were there more inviting hotels. Instead of 
the customary heavy ugliness, here are coolness, sim- 
plicity, and elegance. The immense square hall is in 
white mosaic, furnished with the lightest white and 
green wicker furniture. The glass doors show the 
courtyard beyond, shadowed by fern trees and tall 
palms. In the second story, around the central court, 



204 SOUTH AFRICA AND THE EAST COAST 

are commodious rooms and wide verandas. Here the 
tourists congregate; one hears the clinking of ice in 
glasses, the sound of music and laughter, and daylight 
passes into dusk. Then the moon silvers the water, 
a cool breeze sweeps across the point, and we begin 
to discuss remaining over a boat, or perhaps two. We 
have reached the land of the Lotus eaters; surely a 
month or a year is not too long to linger! 

Very often things look different in the morning. 
The next day as we explore the town under the direct 
rays of the African sun, we cast our eyes occasionally 
toward the sea, uneasy lest our boat sail without us. 

The size of the hospital is the best witness that 
these very attractive towns in the tropics are not the 
most healthful spots in the world. This is the most 
imposing building in Dar-es- Salaam, and might be 
mistaken for the governor's palace. The colony is 
under a governor sent out from the mother country; 
the well-ordered city and the conduct of the natives 
indicate his firm rule. 

It would seem that a vast park had been laid out 
near the sea and then the governor of Dar-es-Salaam 
had located his mansion and the houses of many of 
his officials in this inviting retreat. The palace is 
set in the midst of giant ferns, palms, and fragrant 
f rangipani ; its terraces lead down to the sea. Liveried 
servants move noiselessly through halls furnished in 
ivory and ebony. Until recently a German count and 
his American wife dispensed hospitality in this lovely 



DAR-ES-SALAAM 



205 



palace overlooking the Indian Ocean, but governors 
come and go, for the climate is too unlike that of the 
home land to make it desirable or healthful for offi- 
cials to make a long stay in the colonies of Africa. 
These faraway posts are not the most coveted, be- 
cause of the divided sentiment in Germany with re- 




PALACE OF THE GOVERNOR 



gard to the colonies; there is a large party that 
considers that the outlay is not warranted by the 
present, or possible, returns, and so the expenditure 
and administration are continually questioned by the 
home government. 



206 SOUTH AFRICA AND THE EAST COAST 

From the new quarter of the town, with its mod- 
ern hospital, residences, shops, and offices, the road 
leads to the native village. The business street be- 
comes an avenue shaded by flamboyant trees. The 
tree is like an immense long-handled umbrella, the 
lacy canopy being thickly covered with flaming flow- 
ers. These trees make a brilliant line of color, and a 
very grateful shade from the dazzling sunlight. 

Behind our rickshaw boy we skim along the paths 
of the park, which are shadowed by huge tropical 
palms and fragrant with many delicate oriental odors. 
Finally we come into the grove of giant cocoanut 
trees. Near the top of the tall trees one counts fifty 
or more of the nuts in their shining brown outer cases. 
Our boy has a wholesome fear of German discipline, 
and he absolutely refuses to listen to our suggestion 
that he climb the tree and bring us down a cocoanut. 

The way in which the boys can scale the smooth 
trunk of the cocoanut tree is a feat worthy of the 
circus tent. A very loose band encircles the tree and 
the climber's waist, then with feet firmly planted 
against the trunk and back braced, the climber ascends 
with a twitching movement of the strap. 

We look in vain for chattering monkeys in the tree- 
tops waiting to throw cocoanuts upon our unprotected 
heads; the only ones we see are the pet monkeys in 
the village. Thousands of nuts are heaped along the 
roadside, ready to have their outer coating removed. 
When they are broken open and partially dried they 



DAR-ES-SALAA3I 207 

are put in sacks and exported to the oil and soap fac- 
tories of Europe, under the name of copra. 

Those who have lived for some length of time 
among the blacks of this coast region speak of the 
desire of these people for cleanliness. They are nat- 
urally as clean as the natives from Hindostan and 
Malacca are dirty, and in this little settlement they 
must be not only clean but orderly. 

Many of the huts are built of stakes driven into 
the ground; pliable brown limbs are interwoven be- 
tween these, and the open spaces are filled in with 
clay or smaller twigs. The little village resembles 
a great array of huge brown cocoanuts halved and 
arranged in rows. Here and there is a white plas- 
tered hut which looks like the white of a broken 
nut. The driveways often are outlined with pine- 
apple plants, each with its heavy golden head. Since 
the cocoanuts are so hopelessly out of our reach, we 
are glad to find this friendly plant no taller than 
ourselves holding up its great luscious yellow fruit 
ready to be cut and eaten. In Africa, where pine- 
apples are no more than a penny each, a whole pine- 
apple is served as with us an orange is served, for 
breakfast. 

When we reach the ship's landing at dusk the boat- 
men meet us, clamoring for our sixpences, but the 
friendly little tug from our ship also is here, and we 
steam away to the big vessel. At sunset we leave 
"The Abode of Peace" with more regret than we 



208 SOUTH AFRICA AND THE EAST COAST 

have felt since the lovely blue of Table Mountain 
faded from sight. 

From Dar-es-Salaam past Zanzibar to Tanga is 
a day's sail. German hotels, German officers, and in 
the center of the park a statue of Bismarck, leave no 
doubt as to whose territory this is. The long row of 
negro huts, the jungle of palms, the silent, scantily 
clothed natives make the country beyond the railroad 
seem the heart of a dark continent. Nearer the boat 
landing there are an inviting hotel and a store where 
a Japanese sells post-cards in Parisian-French — a lit- 
tle cheaper to the Englishman because "y ou are of 
my country the ally," he explains. 

A shrewd little African who insists in conferring 
upon us his services as guide, explains that his Ger- 
man, which is several degrees better than our own, has 
been acquired at the mission school. When he sings 
"Above all, Germany," in a genuinely patriotic key, 
we marvel again at the transformation of the chil- 
dren of the forest into the citizens of all countries. 
"Africa fcr the Africans" may be right in theory, 
but in fact the continent does not exist except where 
Europeans have laid upon it a compelling hand. 

Tanga, though an interesting German settlement, 
is far less important than the neighboring capital of 
Dar-es-Salaam, and the boat lingers here [a few 
hours only, just long enough to take on board the 
tons of copra awaiting transportation. 



MOMBASA 

Leaving Tanga at sunset, the mail steamer sights 
the island of Mombasa early in the afternoon of the 
following day. Skirting the mainland of Africa, 
we have a view of the splendid Usambara Mountains, 
which outline the coast for some distance; then the 
hour before the town of Mombasa comes into view the 
ship passes many small islands — wonderfully lovely 
because of their tall palms and the intense greenness 
of their tropical foliage. 

The island is somewhat over a mile wide and four 
miles in length. On the seaward side of this coral 
reef toward the south lies the town of Mombasa. The 
harbor here is less protected and more difficult to 
enter than that of Kilindini, so the large boats usually 
round the northern corner of the island, and threading 
a somewhat narrow channel, come to anchor between 
the long reef of Mombasa and the mainland of 
Africa, not far from the village of Kilindini. 

Small boats come to transport passengers and lug- 
gage to the shore. The black rowers give a satisfied 
grunt when they receive the usual sixpenny fee, and 
hasten back to the big ship in the hope of securing 
a second load. Steamers touch at Mombasa oftener 
than at many of the other East Coast ports, but the 
rowers do not reap much of a harvest, for their cargo 
of passengers and freight is only weekly or bi- 
monthly. French ships stop sometimes on their way 



210 SOUTH AFRICA AND THE EAST COAST 



LANDING PLACE OF KILINDINI 

from Marseilles to Madagascar, there are occasional 
boats from Suez or Aden, but the German lines 
make regular journeys around the continent of 
Africa, ancl the coming of the German East African 
mail boat, with its regular date of arrival and de- 
parture, and its company of gay tourists, is the most 
important event to the rowers who are waiting to pick 
up pennies. 

When trunks are landed they are carefully 
searched for guns and ammunition, for there is a 
serious effort on the part of officials to enforce the 
laws which have been made to save the big game of 



MOMBASA 



211 



this region, especially the elephants, from being en- 
tirely destroyed English hunters must procure a 
$250.00 license, and even when armed with this docu- 
ment they may not shoot more than two elephants. 
The tusks of one large elephant, however, will more 




IN MOMBASA 



than pay for the license, leaving the second pair of 
tusks and the pleasure of the hunt as clear gain. 

A well-beaten path marks the ascent from the 
landing to the street-car station. Tickets are bought 
from the English official, and as on the Paris 'bus 
lines, it is important to hold fast your ticket, for the 
patrons of the Mombasa train system are served in 



212 SOUTH AFRICA AND THE EAST COAST 

the order of the numbers on the slips of pasteboard. 
It is important, also, to hold a number immediately 
following or preceding your friend's, or you may 
go flying down the avenue in the exclusive company 
of a strange black man, who pushes the car, and a 
strange white man, who occupies the seat beside you. 
In East Africa the only power that is cheap and 
plentiful is human muscle, so the propelling force is 
a native runner, who pushes the little car from behind. 
Two is company in Mombasa, as elsewhere, and one 
does not have to worry about the intruding third when 
taking a street-car ride, for each car accommodates 
only two persons. 

The street-car service in Mombasa is one of the 
most interesting features of the island. The tracks 
are small and near together, and ramify the entire 
residence section. The more important homes have 
a line laid to the front door, and a private car awaits 
the owner at his threshold. When the master of the 
house is ready for business he mounts his car, and a 
servant pushes him down the avenue of mango trees 
along the curve that connects his switch with the 
main line, and there they join the procession. The 
tiny cars fly along the two tracks in opposite direc- 
tions, so there is no danger of collision. 

The car itself looks like a small buggy seat with 
a corresponding buggy top, the strange contrivance 
being set on a platform about as large as a kitchen 
table. Grooved wheels are affixed below, and then 



MOMBASA 



213 



the toy car is placed on the very narrow gauge steel 
track. There are not many public cars, and one is 
fortunate if he has a friend on the island who will 
lend his servant and private car for the day's outing. 
It is useless to tell the power behind the car to 
push slowly; either he does not understand you or 

he does not wish to 
delay. The scene 
along the way is so 
full of interest that 
this fleeting glimpse 
as one skims down 
the avenue is not 
enough. Moorish 
houses line it on 
either side, strange 
tropical trees throw 
distinct dark patterns 
on the glaring road, 
camels and queer 
humped oxen, and 
the most diminutive 
donkeys with rude 
little boxes of 
wagons, keep time with their sleepy nodding heads 
to their slow, discouraged gait. 

Most interesting of all the sights along the ave- 
nue is the stream of human life coming and going. 
It is impossible to talk about the "native" of Mom- 




PRIVATE STREET CAR 



214 SOUTH AFRICA AND THE EAST COAST 

basa, for this island has for its population the most 
cosmopolitan of people. Here are gathered all the 
types of all the nations of Asia and Africa, with a 
thin sprinkling of Europeans for contrast. The "na- 
tive" village numbers about 40,000, the European 
colony not more than 200. 

Having studied the steerage passengers on our 
ship and asked many questions of guides at the other 
East Coast ports, we are now able to determine the 
country, or at least the religion, of these different 
dark-skinned pedestrians. 

Those men in long robes with thick belts, and 
thicker turbans whose compact folds will always be 
a mystery even to the milliner's art, are Mo- 
hammedans — the brown ones from Arabia, the black 
ones converts from the African shores. If you are 
a believer in the simple life, study the costume of 
this procession of Hindus. What could be more 
effective than the snowy white of their long robes? 
A slip of white cotton reaches from shoulder to ankle, 
and a tight-fitting white embroidered skull cap com- 
pletes a costume in which the height of elegant sim- 
plicity and of fine contrast is attained. The East 
Indians would look altogether commercial and Euro- 
pean were it not for the peculiar cap they always 
wear — a round affair of black felt heavily embroid- 
ered in gold thread. The Par sees also are known 
by their headgear, a very tall hat. Here, as in Zan- 
zibar, the Swahilis outnumber the others, wearing 



MOMBASA 



215 



any kind of a gay tunic or drapery their purse allows. 

The women one passes along the highways of 

Mombasa cer- 
tainly are not 
beautiful ac- 
cording to Eu- 
ropean stand- 
ards, but no 
one can deny 
that their 
costumes are 
"exclusive" 
and unusual. 
The Moham- 
medan women 
of the better 
sort are veiled, 
but the veils 
are of every 
kind and de- 
scription. The 
poorer women 
are encased in 
black from 
head to foot 
and in the 

midst of the gay foliage and flowers look like 

specters at a feast. 

Some of the Mohammedan women seem to have 




A WOMAN OF MOMBASA 



216 SOUTH AFRICA AND THE EAST COAST 

arrived at the conclusion that brunettes should wear 
yellow, and a glaring bit of color are two of those 
whom we see. Their yellow dresses are fitted over 
padded caps, the entire costume from the crown of 
the head to the sole of the foot seemingly in one 
piece with no opening. Closer inspection reveals 
two cuts for their eyes. 

These closely veiled women are of the strictest sect 
of the Mohammedans. We are glad to encounter 
others with just an embroidered silk oblong picture 
frame set across the face for a veil, an ugly enough 
disguise, but one that gives the poor victim of fashion 
a little breathing-space. The Swahili women, instead 
of concealing their charms, draw attention to them 
by their gay draperies, their bracelets, their turbans, 
and by their atrocious nose and ear and lip orna- 
mentation. The pierced upper lip set with jewels 
and the jewel-studded nostrils are more tolerable 
than the disfigured ears. 

Only at Mombasa and Zanzibar has the elasticity 
of the lobe of the ear been thoroughly tested. The 
ear of the child is pierced and every week or so 
a larger wooden peg or roll of paper is inserted in 
the hole, until the ornament it holds is as large as 
a dollar. Occasionally, the ultra fashionable insert 
the tops of cocoa tins in the distended lobes. Often 
the entire circuit of the ear is pierced with holes of 
varying sizes. When these are filled with gilded 
ornaments or rolls of gay paper the effect is very 



MOMBASA 



217 



beautiful, or very grotesque, according to one's point 
of view. Even the men are not exempt from this 
form of vanity, and add to their ugliness with this 

gaudy ear or- 
nametation. 
When they 
forget to put 
in their ear- 
rings, their 
ears appear 
like leather 
sieves affixed 
to their heads. 
When we 
reach the end 
of the line 
that stretches 
across the 
island from 
Kilindini to 
Mombasa, and 
our interest in 
our unique 
street-car and 
in the pass- 
ing show of humanity, camels, oxen and asses, has 
somewhat abated, we are ready to inspect the his- 
torical fort that tradition connects with the name of 
Vasco da Gama. 




A STREET VENDER 



218 



SOUTH AFRICA AND THE EAST COAST 



The gray vine-covered ruins of the old fort stand 
on a projecting promontory that commands a won- 
derful view of a blue sea and a green world; and 

behind it all 
are spread out 
the low brown 
thatched roofs 
of the native 
village. More 
than four hun- 
dred years 
ago when 
Va sco da 
Gama touched 
here, a very 
considerable 
Arab village 
was in exist- 
ence, and this 
indefatigable 
sailor de- 
scribes it in 
his journal. 
Not many 
years after 
this event of 1498 the Portuguese were convinced 
through the accounts of da Gama that the island was 
worth seizing, and they thereupon seized it. 

We should like to believe that this navigator be- 




SWAHILI WOMEN PREPARING RICE 



MOMBASA 219 

gan the fort, but it is more probable that in about 
1600 the Portuguese constructed it to protect their 
possessions. The strongest corner of this piece of 
masonry the British now use as a prison. In later 
times the Arabs regained their own and held this 




THE FORT AT MOMBASA 

valuable island under the Sultan of Zanzibar until 
the British leased it. "Lease" is a polite term for 
the absolute rule of the British, although due forms 
are observed here as in Zanzibar, and the Union Jack 
and the flag of the sultan always adorn the same 
flagpole. 

Mombasa is the capital of British East Africa; 



220 SOUTH AFRICA AND THE EAST COAST 

here the treasury and government buildings are lo- 
cated, and a neat little street-car line leads up to 
the rather pretentious front door of the governor- 
general's home. Here, also, is the terminus of the 
wonderful Uganda Railway. 

The Uganda Railway is a road 600 miles long 
connecting the Indian Ocean with Lake Victoria, 
which it joins not far from the source of the Nile. 
The construction of this line is considered to have 
been a remarkable feat of engineering, climbing as 
the road does to a height of over 8,000 feet and then 
dropping into deep valleys. About $25,000,000 were 
expended by the British Government in building the 
Uganda Railway, and although the investment has 
proved a profitable one as far as mere earnings are 
concerned, the road is of course of the greatest value 
in opening up the interior of the country. 

American engineers constructed the bridges, the 
steel framework of which was sent directly from 
America, all the pieces numbered and ready to be 
fitted together. More than one hundred thousand 
pieces were shipped to Mombasa, each averaging in 
weight one hundred pounds. These numbers make 
it evident what a tremendous responsibility it must 
have been to take charge of this vast mound of seem- 
ingly meaningless steel rods and fit them together 
into arches so strong and beautiful as those that span 
the valleys through which the Uganda Railway 
passes. Added to the other difficulties of five years 



MOMBASA 221 

ago when the bridge was being completed, the native 
workmen were unskilled, and such children that they 
stole the steel wires for jewelry. Sometimes as many 
as a dozen Hindus were carried off in one night by 
lions, and rhinoceroses have been known to butt the 
freight cars off the track. 

If one is able to wait over a boat on his East Coast 
journey, and if he has sixty dollars to spare for his 
round-trip ticket there can be no more interesting 
journey than that of the 300 miles from Mombasa 
to Nairobi. Secure in a parlor car, you may watch 
the zebras, antelopes, gnus, and other strange ani- 
mals, singly or in herds of a thousand, come very near 
the train, as unafraid as though they knew of the 
law that forbids killing them within a mile of the 
railroad track. The law does not protect lions or 
tigers, so these animals are wary. 

The mountain Kilimanjaro is to be seen after a 
hundred miles of climbing from Mombasa, lifting 
its snow-covered head 19,000 feet above the level 
of the sea. 

Once in Nairobi, the principal town in the interior 
on the Uganda Railway, one may lodge at a fairly 
good hotel and be supplied with all the comforts of 
life. 

The study of the great problems of opening up 
this country is interesting. There are the industries 
derived from the native products of the country, as 
the making of sanswera fiber into rope, the stock- 



MOMBASA 223 

raising which is possible because of the excellent 
grazing-land, the shipping of the lumber of the 
great forests. Attempts are being made to grow 
coffee and hemp, and other plants which thrive in 
tropical countries. Land may be had almost for the 
asking and any one who feels crowded in his own 
country can find plenty of room to expand here. 

The usual traveler is, however, satisfied when all 
his questions about the Uganda Railway are an- 
swered. The native village of Mombasa looks 
strange enough to him and he has no wish to seek 
farther for adventures. 

There are so many stories of dirt and disease that 
one does not feel inclined to wander into the dark 
depths of narrow streets among mysterious veiled 
women, and men looking far more villainous, pro- 
bably, than they really are. 

"You must see the fish market," one enthusiastic 
traveler calls to us. When within sight of it we con- 
clude its unusual bargains and unusual smells are 
not for those of fastidious taste. 

The main street of Mombasa seems fairly Euro- 
pean after Zanzibar and Mozambique. Many of the 
stores are conducted on the "one price" method and 
we are able to dispense with the haggling about 
values that is necessary elsewhere. 

Our good ship seems very like home when dark- 
ness begins to creep over the world, and Ave are glad 
to hail a rickshaw boy and leave Mombasa behind 



224 SOUTH AFRICA AND THE EAST COAST 

us. Speeding down the avenue, we pass the tiny 
cars going in the opposite direction; white dresses 
and gay laughter speak of dinner parties and other 
festivities for those who are in the social whirl of 
Mombasa, where rivalries doubtless are just as keen 
as they are in London or New York. 

The little boats and the dusky boatmen are waiting 
for us and convey us safely to the ship's ladder. The 
jovial second mate helps us on deck, saying: 
"Welcome home." 

The dining-room is alight, the orchestra is play- 
ing, the passengers are promenading the deck. This 
great modern house party contrasts strangely with 
the scene from which we have just come. One is 
tempted to believe the mysterious streets, the veiled 
women, and the tropical woods a dream. All this 
wonderful East Coast is so unlike anything in the 
ordinary world that mingled with the sense of pleas- 
ure there is always the feeling of unreality. 

The next morning a chased silver umbrella handle, 
a carved ivory box, and a flat purse confirm the fact 
that our visit was no dream, and that he have actually 
walked along the aisles of an oriental bazaar in 
Mombasa. 



FROM MOMBASA TO ADEN 

It is a five days' run from British East Africa 
to Aden — the longest section of the voyage. In 
fact, it seems that the ocean journey does not begin 
until Mombasa is left behind. The first month of 
the voyage is a coast cruise rather than a long sea 
trip. The many ports at which our ship has touched 
have proved so diverting that the memory of one has 
merged into the picture of the next, and there has 
been little time to think of either the terrors or the 
beauty of the sea. 

Now that the voyage is well begun, the ship's com- 
pany begin to meet as friends. The usual shipboard 
recreations are indulged in, which includes the weigh- 
ing of every one on board on crossing the equator. 
The stoutest of the passengers are happy for the rest 
of the day, for one weighs less in German pounds 
than English pounds, and of course less at the equator 
than anywhere else on the surface of the earth. No 
wonder gravity does not pull so hard here; in heat 
such as this everything relaxes its hold! 

There is time now to become acquainted with the 
interesting steerage passengers going to Mecca on 
a pilgrimage. If cleanliness is next to godliness, 
they can start on the road to holiness at once with 
the aid of the ship's hose. 

A menagerie has been picked up along the way and 
a pleasant nightmare which some of the passengers 



226 



SOUTH AFRICA AND THE EAST COAST 



indulge in is that the prisoners loosen the bars of 
their steel cages and come visiting the staterooms 
during the night to select the most appetizing mor- 
sels of humanity. A monkey actually succeeds in 
making his escape and gives the sailors a merry 



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l ,l ■ m^ ~'"bib^y*' : 



GENERAL VIEW OF ADEN 



chase. With tantalizing wickedness he goes to the 
very edge of the ship's railing as though to throw 
himself overboard, and then when a hand almost 
touches him, makes a flying leap and in a second is 
at the very top of the rigging. A dozen sailors are 
tired out before he is caught, and put in his cage, 
where he goes back demurely to his nut-cracking, 



FROM MOMBASA TO ADEN 227 

with a twinkle in his eye that seems to say: "Good 
sport; wasn't it?" 

The sea is like glass, its smooth surface broken 
only by the schools of flying-fish that follow the 
ship's path. At night gleaming phosphorescence 
shows the wake of the vessel — a line of fiery opal on 
the still expanse of sea. 

The jungle and the vast thickets of intense green 
are left behind. The coast line when it appears is 
a bare expanse of yellow sand. As far as the eye 
can reach there are only a desert sea and a waste of 
land. 

Italian Somaliland and English Somaliland take 
in the *' great horn of Africa." These strips of bar- 
ren territory are inhabited by a nomadic people who 
drive their flocks from place to place to find pasture. 
Eritrea on the Red Sea is the other colony of Italy 
in Africa. These possessions are in appearance so 
utterly barren and desolate that Italy can have noth- 
ing to fear with regard to her colonies from the greed 
and envy of other nations. 

A bold cliff terminates the "great horn," from the 
rugged rock of which the hand of Nature has carved 
a lion's head in gigantic proportions. It requires no 
stretch of imagination to see the tawny animal, 
crouching with its paws extended toward the sea. 
On nearer approach the head takes on a human like- 
ness, and then it becomes the bare stony cliff of Cape 
Guardafui, the most eastern point of Africa. 



228 SOUTH AFRICA AND THE EAST COAST 




CAMEL MARKET AT ADEN 



After passing Cape Guardafui, the ship changes 
her course. A voyage of a hundred miles due west 
brings us to the entrance to the Red Sea — the Straits 
of Bab-el-Mandeb, the "Gate of Tears." 

Just before we enter the furnace of the Red Sea 
a stop for coaling is made at the Asiatic port of 
Aden. Low rocky mountains give the town its back- 
ground, and the place seems all that is barren and 
desolate. As in the case of the other oriental ports, 
however, interest grows with acquaintance. 

The little pony carriages are lined up beside the 
wharf, the owners ready to bargain with the ship's 



FROM MOMBASA TO ADEN 229 

company for the ride to the water tanks. In a land 
where it rains once in two or three years the store- 
houses for water are of great importance. The tanks, 
which hold more than thirty million gallons of water, 
and the humps on the millions of camels make pos- 
sible here the life of man and of his beast of burden. 

Along the ascending road that leads to the moun- 
tain crevasse in which the reservoirs are built, pass 
oxen and camels drawing metal cylinders filled with 
water, and tiny pannier-laden donkeys driven by 
Arabs. Some high officials drive by, the outriders of 
their coaches being gaily caparisoned camels, the 
gold-embroidered, crimson velvet blankets of which 
glisten in the sun. 

At the foot of the water tanks is the town of Aden 
proper, a town built in the crater of a volcano. 
Ordinarily the lack of verdure and the low glaring 
white houses might make it a desolate picture, but 
today is a holiday, and the white town is given up 
to feasting and merrymaking. 

The women and little girls are gorgeous in pink 
and purple and green silk veils, and silk robes, gay 
with tinsel ornaments and jewelry. The men in tur- 
bans and belted gowns are scarcely less festive. But, 
alas! this is a holiday for the beggars, also, and our 
carriage is surrounded by cripples as pitiable as they 
are repulsive. 

At the foot of the tanks our coachman leaves us, 
to join in the celebration for an hour, and we begin 



230 SOUTH AFRICA AND THE EAST COAST 




GENERAL VIEW OF TANKS AND CISTERNS 

to climb the cement steps that lead from one tank 
to the next. The size of the reservoir is limited by 
the breadtlj of a deep gorge in a stone cliff. The 
jagged sides are cemented into irrgular tanks, one 
above the other, that the overflow from the upper 
basins may be caught by those below. The air is 
so wonderfully clear and dry here that there is prac- 
tically no corrosion, and the cement lining is as per- 
fect as in the days of Mohammed himself. Occa- 
sionally in the cliff's side there is a living spring, 
shaded by an olive tree that has seen many centuries 
come and go. 



FROM MOMBASA TO ADEN 231 

The Romans built a Chrisian church at Aden, 
in 342, A. D. Abyssinians, Persians, Portuguese, 
and Egyptians have since that time fought for this 
prize. In 1839, by a forced sale, it passed into the 
hands of the English. Then its prosperity began, 
and in fifty years its population increased almost 
fifty fold. 

The British have made Aden the Gibraltar of the 
Red Sea. It is incidentally a coaling-station and a 
commercial center, but it is a fortress most emphatic- 
ally. The drive from the crater in which the town 
is located down to Steamer Point reveals the forti- 
fication of this isthmus. The rocky summits fairly 
bristle with batteries, towers and magazines, and 
every modern contrivance in engineering machinery 
and artillery. 

The horses of Aden are miserable little creatures, 
and in spite of our protests, our driver insists upon 
making up to his animals in whippings what he has 
failed to pay them in food. We are glad for their 
sakes when the landing-pier comes into view. 

The masts and rigging of many ships are outlined 
against the brilliant sky and at the side of each 
the coalers are at work. Hundreds of workmen 
chanting and singing in the midst of the cloud of 
black dust they raise make us almost long to return 
to the clean air of the "town in the crater." 

As our little boat leaves the shore many Arabs 
appear to be making their adieux accompanied with 



232 SOUTH AFRICA AND THE EAST COAST 

profound salutations. They are, however, quite un- 
conscious of the intruding foreigners, we learn. This 
is the hour of prayer, and one Mussulman after an- 
other unrolls his prayer rug, and with arms extended 
and face toward the East, prostrates himself in pro- 
found devotion, giving thanks that "Allah is Allah 
and Mohammed is his prophet." 



FAREWELL TO AFRICA 

The Red Sea, like most of the ills of life, is not 
so unendurable as has been anticipated. The patient 
captain responds to the same question that he has 
answered a thousand times before — "Why is it called 
Red?" — "No one knows; there is some red seaweed; 
some of the cliffs along the shore take on a reddish 




PORT SAID 

hue; it may be because reeds formerly grew along 
the banks. Whatever the reason is, there is nothing 
perceptibly red in sight, and when and how it re- 
ceived its name no one knows." 

The name seems appropriate enough to those who 
rise at dawn to see the sun streak the yellow sands 
and gray water with flame. One can not imagine 
a greater wonder than the crimson splendor of a 
sunrise on the Red Sea. 

233 



234 SOUTH AFRICA AND THE EAST COAST 



-fGTEL con rn< 




A STREET SCENE NEAR THE HARBOR— PORT SAID 

A hundred and thirty miles beyond Aden the 
domes of Mocha's mosques come into view, gleaming- 
like white pearls in the morning sunshine. Ten 
thousand tons of the finest coffee, they tell us, are 
exported annually from this Arabian town. 

This is a sea of Biblical associations. We pass twelve 
isolated rocky islands — the twelve apostles. Mt. 
Sinai lifts its head above the surrounding hills, and 
there near the gateway to the Gulf of Suez is the 
very spot where the children of Israel, fleeing from 
Pharoah's hosts, saw the high ridge of sand which 
almost closes its entrance, bared by the wind and 
low tide for their passage out of Egypt into the 
promised land. 



FAREWELL TO AFRICA 235 

The Red Sea is like a long arm terminated at the 
north by two fingers; the one pointing to the east is 
the Gulf of Akabah, the one extended toward Africa 
is the long narrow Gulf of Suez, 170 miles long and 
25 miles wide. The Suez Canal connects this gulf 
with the Mediterranean. 

At one end of the canal is the town of Suez; at 
the other end, 99 miles away, Port Said. A narrow 
blue ribbon of water 137 feet wide marks the path 
between the two ports. 

The fact that the yearly tonnage that passes 
through the canal is over 20,000,000 tons and of a 
value exceeding $125,000,000 does not bring home so 
strongly the importance of this waterway as does 
a picture of conditions when the channel was closed 
for only eleven days. 

The Chatham, a common English tramp, sank not 
far from Port Said. Her cargo was largely dyna- 
mite, and therefore contractors hesitated to undertake 
the work of raising the boat. At last engineers let 
down explosives, and by making an electrical con- 
nection, succeeded in blowing up this cargo from a 
safe distance. Splinters of the wrecked vessel cov- 
ered the country for miles around, and half a mile 
of the canal bank accompanied the wreck into the 
air, but the channel was cleared and commerce was 
resumed. The accumulated procession of ships that 
made a line far out into the Red Sea, and into the 
Mediterranean, began to move in opposite directions. 



236 



SOUTH AFRICA AND THE EAST COAST 



Then the whole commercial world breathed freely 
once more, and it was demonstrated once and for all 
that the Suez Canal is the main artery between the 
Far East and Europe, and that trade is paralyzed 
when this waterway is obstructed. 

The wonder is that men were so long in cutting 
this canal, when the ancients from the time of 




NORTHERN ENTRANCE OF SUEZ CANAL 

Herodotus down to the ninth century had maintained 
a passage here, and had realized its value. For four 
hundred years men continued to sail around the Cape 
of Good Hope to India and waste six months in a 
voyage that should have required not more than six 
weeks, even in the days before the coming of the 
steamboat. 

When in 1854 De Lesseps suggested not something 
new, but that the work of Darius should be done 



FAREWELL TO AFRICA 237 

over again, all the world except the hopeful French 
people declared the promoter of the scheme insane. 
The chief difficulty was the question of labor, which 
Egypt finally agreed to furnish. France supplied 
the $100,000,000 necessary, and in a little more than 
twenty years the work was done. 

It is England that has profited mostly by the Suez 
Canal. In 1877 the Khedive of Egypt sold to Eng- 
land his stock in the canal for $20,000,000. At the 
time the British people protested against this use of 
public funds by the prime minister, Disraeli, but it 
has proved to the stockholders an excellent invest- 
ment from a merely financial point of view. More- 
over, it gives England the key to the world's com- 
merce, although she has promised never to use her 
power, agreeing at the time of purchase that this 
door between the East and the West should be held 
wide open forever to all nations. 

At Ismailia is the bright blue palace built for the 
reception of the Empress Eugenie when she came 
here in 1867 to open formally the Suez Canal to the 
commerce of the world. Here the nations of the 
world paid her homage, while her own country ex- 
ulted in her power and beauty. In a few years the 
empress of Napoleon III was an exile from France, 
and as a crowning misfortune, Africa demanded 
on one of its battlefields the life of her only son, the 
prince imperial. The deserted palace of Ismailia 
is a mournful witness of the vicissitudes of fortune. 



238 SOUTH AFRICA AND THE EAST COAST 






3 



*\ ;* 






THE PATIENT CAMEL 



Caravans of camels, heavily laden, come across the 
desert from Cairo to Ismailia. All along the way, 
where the dredgers are at work, they bring supplies 
to the workmen, or help in hauling the loads of sand 
away from the water's edge. Egypt would not be 
what our fancy had painted without the vast stretches 
of sandy desert, the mirage, the line of palms along 
the horizon, and the patient camel. 

Mohammed himself was a camel driver and he 
knew what he was writing when he inscribed in the 
Koran: "And do ye not look then at the camel how 
she is created." The arch in the animal's back is 



FAREWELL TO AFRICA 



239 



the curve of greatest strength and can support half 
a ton's weight. The hump contains a water supply 
for five days. The mouth lined with hard cartilage 
does not recognize the thorny cactus as a meal of 
pins and needles. The nostrils and eyelids are able 
to contract in the presence of the merciless pelting 
of the dry hot dust of the simoon. Man and animal 
must adapt themselves to their environment, and the 



;iti 



- 



PLOWING IN UPPER EGYPT 



camel has worked out this law of adaptation to per- 
fection. The Arabs have a saying which expresses 
their gratitude for this friend that serves them when 
everything else deserts: "The camel is the greatest 
of blessings given by Allah to mankind." 

The camel may be able to resist the dust-laden 
winds of the desert; the canal can not, and so the 



240 SOUTH AFRICA AND THE EAST COAST 

work of dredging 1 the bottom, to maintain the present 
depth of thirty-one feet, goes on continually. To 
prevent the wasting away of the banks, steamers 
must slacken their speed to six miles an hour from 
the moment they enter the canal, for the washing 
of the waves hastens erosion. Large vessels can pass 
each other only at the passing-stations, but the small 
boats may pass whenever a steamer is willing to stop 
its engines and squeeze up next to the bank. 

Every five miles there is a little passing-station, 
with a house and a cluster of palms. The trees 
almost brush the windows of the cabins and as they 
recede we have the impression of gliding along in 
a slowly moving train. 

Between stations Arabs are at work, for the never- 
ending warfare with the shifting sand may not cease 
even for a few hours. All that breaks the monotony 
of the long day of the brown, scantily clad toiler is 
the passing of a steamer, and his useless appeal, as 
he follows, the vessel, of "Backsheesh! Backsheesh!" 

For seventeen hours the mighty hulk of our 
steamer struggles forward like a sorely wounded 
animal. There is little to be seen but the straight 
blue ribbon before us and behind us. In the moon- 
light, the ribbon becomes a silver band, widening here 
and there at the smaller lagoons, and again at the 
Bitter Lakes. The colorless sands stretch away until 
they meet a faintly colored sky, but the scene is not 
monotonous, for the desert lays upon all its indefin- 



FAREWELL TO AFRICA 



241 



able spell. The noonday haze, the sunset splendor, 
the unreal moonlight, hold us enthralled. We would 
gladly lengthen the minutes into hours, for at Port 
Said we leave Africa behind us, and who knows when 
we shall pass this way again? There is no time to 
mourn, however, for here are the white offices of 




MOONLIGHT ON THE SUEZ CANAL 



the Canal Company before us and there is the statue 
of De Lesseps looking down this little line of water 
— a blue path through the sand. 

No one would voluntarily choose Port Said as an 
abiding-place, hot and dirty as it is, and the dump- 
ing ground of all the nations of the earth. The street 
signs are in all languages, the costumes are of every 
sort and kind. Every one wishes to drive you or 



242 SOUTH AFRICA AND THE EAST COAST 

guide you or cheat you in some way. The coaling, 
the flare of music, the chorus of many voices, the 
roulette tables add to the confusion. But ill-condi- 
tioned as Port Said is, it is a town which is important 
not only because of what it stands for today, but 
because it is the site of what must necessarily be a 
great city in the future. 

The greatness of the Suez Canal pales before the 
enterprise with which the United States has charged 
itself. In Egypt the cut is through the smooth 
sands ; in Panama, immense rocky walls bar the way. 
Egypt has a healthful climate; malaria and pesti- 
lence lurk in the swamps near Panama. Egypt since 
the days of Pharoah has sacrificed mercilessly human 
life in the accomplishment of great works. Human- 
ity is a more precious thing in the Western Hemi- 
sphere, and the American overseer dare not if he 
would repeat the history of the Suez, "drenching with 
blood each shovelful of earth." Yet no one doubts 
that Panarna, like Suez, will be worth its terrible cost. 

At the end of the pier at Port Said stands the 
statue of De Lesseps. It has been suggested that 
at its base should be placed the statue of a fellah 
bent with toil, that the world might be reminded of 
the fact it is prone to forget — that all the capital and 
organization in the world are as nothing without the 
labor of man's hands. 

After Port Said, atmosphere, scenery, interest 
and even the constellations change. The Southern 



FAREWELL TO AFRICA 243 

Cross has faded, and we turn our faces toward the 
Great Bear. 

So this is Europe. How pale and faded its colors 
seem! We watch recede in the distance the snow- 
covered hills of Crete, the villas and towns that 
stretch down the slopes on either side of the Straits 
of Messina (the Scylla and Charybdis of ancient 
times). Then the white cone of Mt. Aetna, sending 
its curl of gray smoke against the flushed morning 
sky, comes into view, and in a few hours the broken, 
wornout crater of Vesuvius. After the young and 
vigorous new continent of Africa, the old world 
seems as moonlight unto sunlight, and as water unto 
wine. 

One can understand the enthusiasm of the pioneers 
of Africa who believe that she is the land of the 
future, that on this continent south of the equator 
the great events of history during the twentieth cen- 
tury are to be enacted. 

Again and again she has meted out calamities to 
those who have toiled for her, but it has always been 
the same story, and although 

They took ship and they took sail 
Raging from her borders, 
In a little while, none the less, 
They forgot their sore duresse, 
They forgave her waywardness, 
And returned for orders. 

Why one hungers for a return to her shores would 
be difficult to say, but who cares to explain the sail- 



244 SOUTH AFRICA AND THE EAST COAST 

or's longing for the waste sea, or the Africander's 
homesickness for the wide veldt. That there is such 
a thing as this longing we ourselves know full well. 
When we disembark at Naples and watch regretfully 
our good ship continue on her way, we half envy the 
captain whose lot it is to encircle again and again the 
African continent. 

The journey around Africa is not unlike the circuit 
in a Ferris wheel. There is the dread of embarking, 
the wonder when farthest from the starting point 
why such an adventurous undertaking was ever 
begun, a sense of increasing pleasure as the circle is 
slowly completed, and then the desire — when solid 
ground is once more reached — to do the whole thing 
over again. It has all been so simple, so delightful, 
and there is so much left unseen! 



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